In our area, most of the lake shore is rock, flat, round stones around Big Bay, large rock along most of the shore. Some of that rock was brought from fields to protect from erosion. It may be hard to walk where the rock is uneven, but it is solid.

Sand beaches are not. When our daughter first went to Ghana, we went to visit and spent three days on a sand beach at the edge of the ocean. We had huts on the sand and could hear the breakers all night. We ate at the edge of the beach watching, fisher folk in boats with their long nets.

This is not a quiet beach. Just thirty feet out, the ocean swell breaks into a rolling wave six feet high. This is not a shore where people swim, though we did get right into the water once, letting it push us, soak us, always being aware of the undertow. Mostly we walked the edge of the waves.

Sometimes we would walk away from the water where the dry sand moved beneath our feet with each step. Mostly, we walked on the wet, firm sand. The water would lap the edge of our feet wrapping us in warm water and a whisper of moving sand.

I had to lift my long skirt though. Where one wave barely touched my toes, the next would envelop my ankles. I tried watching the size of the swell, and sometimes I could tell when the wave would stop short and when it would climb the sand well past me.

Then, the swell which looked manageable would grow after it broke. Suddenly water would climb my leg past my knees, knocking me off balance. The sand beneath my feet would start to shift. The water would pull back, hard. I'd brace myself, except the sand was pulled away. There were holes beneath my feet, nothing to brace against. The water held me. I couldn't move away to a safer spot until the water retreated.

There are times in our lives when it feels like we are walking along the edge of this kind of ocean. Things happen that knock us off balance. It feels as if there is nothing to brace against because everything is shifting beneath our feet. Life can be this kind of ocean deceiving us with warm gentle waves just before knocking us over.

How do we find balance when the ground beneath us is shifting sand? How do we stay on our feet?

There is a parable of Jesus where he says the foolish person builds their house on sand, and it falls down. The wise person builds on rock. That just makes us feel guilty, as if it is our fault when what we thought was solid shifts beneath us.

There are other stories of Jesus that are more help. One night, when he was exhausted, a storm came up as his boat crossed the Sea of Galilee. The disciples were sure they would be overwhelmed by the wind and waves. When they woke him, he spoke to the storm bringing calm.

This story reminds us that we are not alone and that storms are temporary. For us, however, it isn't quite as simple as waking a sleeping Jesus.

In a time when power knocked him around, the apostle Paul wrote that the armour of God will help us stand. "Gird your loins with truth," he wrote. This is helpful, because the Greek people thought of emotion arising in our gut. Being clear on what we feel, setting aside desires that pull us out of ourselves can help us to stand. And in Tai Chi, I have learned that balance doesn't start in our feet but in our core. Keeping ourselves in ourselves helps us stand firm.

Paul also wrote, "put on the breastplate of righteousness." Picture a phalanx of Roman soldiers standing side by side, the edges of their breastplates touching. What keeps them protected and standing is the presence of the person beside. Leaning on community, family, friends, not trying to stand alone, helps us remain on our feet.

When life buffets like a driven wave, when the ground shifts beneath my feet, drawing desire back to my core and leaning on those close by helps keep me on my feet.

Cathy Hird lives near Walters Falls.