The Colors of Altea

Altea, Spain

Altea, Spain

Blue and white are the colors of Altea. Whether it be the church, the buildings, or the bright blue door we pass going up the many stairs we walk, our eyes are constantly taking these colors in. Blue and white are also the colors of the sea and the foam that dances on top. At Edge, the Mediterranean is refreshing not only to the body but to the soul. After morning workshops and service, we are drawn to this body of water as heat begins to fill the day.

Each of our stories now intertwine with the story of Edge.We all come with different needs, different hopes and expectations, and different parts of our life longing for relief from the heat, yet our journeys now share a common point on the map. We have come together and are each standing on the shore, waiting to see what will unfold next for each of us, and for this small town. When we ask the people here what their favorite part of living in Altea is, a common answer is “the sea”. It speaks to each of us in different ways, but we have all heard its voice; or maybe we have heard the voice of the One who created it and now uses it to speak to us, even if we all haven’t recognized who He is.

Some have heard God’s voice calling them to the sea as a place of healing. The salt can sometimes sting as it touches our wounds, but God uses it to heal, just as He gently washes the wounds of our hearts. Others have heard His voice looking out in the parts of the sea near the shore that are filled with debris and other gunk. They have seen in their own lives how God has brought up the filth in the depths of their hearts to the surface, so that it can be washed away with the next wave. Still others are filled with awe at the vastness of the sea, overwhelmed by how God’s love is even greater than the endless blue that stretches out beyond the horizon.

One morning a group of us went to the lighthouse in Albir and then hiked down to the coves below. The sea sparkled as the light of the sun touched the water, but there were also dark patches of blue where the sea floor couldn’t be seen in its depths. One of our participants brought each one of us a small rock he had collected. He told us to think of the burdens in our lives that were weighing us down. Then he told us to imagine that the sea was God’s grace and love. We each threw in our rocks, letting them sink to the bottom, and be enveloped by the water. We breathed in this metaphor for our lives, and let God cover us with His grace as we sat on the rocks looking out into the sea.

For me the sea is both beautiful and terrifying. I long to go deeper, but I’m afraid to fully immerse myself. I’m afraid of not being able to see the bottom – afraid of the unknown. The first time we went cliff diving here I couldn’t jump. Even the thought of jumping made my heart race and anxiety fill my chest. Fear held me back. Even when others invited me to go with them, I wasn’t able to join them because of my fear. It was my choice to overcome it and accept the invitation to go deeper. I soon saw how God was using this to parallel where I’m at in life. I desire more healing, more freedom from the deep wounds that life has given me, but I’ve been afraid. I’ve been standing on the edge for a while now. I’ve tried to hurry myself to jump in – feeling pressured to do so – but God has been patient and gentle, telling me His timing is perfect and I don’t have to rush. It’s taken a long time, but now I’m making a choice. I climbed the rocks at Albir and stood on the edge, overlooking the water. Fear filled my heart, but I decided to trust that the water that held the unknown would be the one to catch me.  I felt panic fill me as I dove under, completely surrounded by the water. But it was only out of the deep that I was able to come to the surface. God’s invitation of the freedom was waiting for me on the other side.

The Voice that Calls My Name

Shades of turquoise, green, and blue

The sound of the waves crashing over me,

as they break along the shore.

The sea foam dances on the rocks

Before being swept back into the blue abyss.

I stand in the tension of where the land and sea meet-

not fully absorbed in either.

I’m surrounded by the vast unknown,

Longing to dive into the parts I have not yet experienced.

But something- I don’t know what- is holding me back.

Fear of the unknown, fear of not being known.

I’m not ready yet.

And so I wait.

I wait, standing on the solid rock

My firm foundation. 

 

I’m waiting to hear the voice that calls my name.

Then I will answer.

There is no time here,

Only the eternity of the horizon

That meets the sea.

I will keep waiting

And He will call my name. 

 

Post and poem by Rachel Blaser, 2015 Edgie

 Photo by Annabelle Chinchen

 

 

 

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