What the Ocean Taught Me

I came thinking I knew life. I left knowing I knew nothing at all.

This Easter, far from the noise I had built around myself, the ocean whispered a truth my pride had drowned out for years.

I used to look at people and silently judge their choices, their struggles, their falls. I placed myself on a pedestal of “elevated” understanding – convinced that my path was superior, my convictions unshakable.

But Diani broke me – gently.

“We never know another’s full story. We never know the weight they carry, the tears they hide, the prayers they whisper at 2am.”

So now, instead of judging – I weep with the erring one.
Instead of condemning – I reach out to raise a falling brother or sister.
Instead of rushing to conclusions – I choose longsuffering, patience, and the kind of love that doesn't keep score.

Because the cross taught me one thing: God did not wait for us to be perfect before He loved us. He loved us while we were still broken, still wandering, still wrong.

That is the love I want to give – imperfectly but sincerely.