On Sunday the Curate and I walked beside the muddy brown waves that tumbled up the two-mile beach, one after another. Nothing could stop them as they lapped up the beach, immersing everything in muddy water. This was not the crashing, rolling surf that inspires awe and wonder. These were not the sparkling ripples that invite you to dip in your toes. This was a relentless grey flood that surged on up the beach. If you stood on the firm sand too long, it would surround you and then cover you.The waves seem to reflect where the Curate and I are in life at the moment. We are both feeling tired from travelling, meetings and the other demands of our individual lives. Just like the waves, all these roll in one after another and we never seem to have time to stand still together. But things are going to change. The plans for our move to the new parish are complete and we are just waiting for confirmation of a move date. The prospect of change is both daunting and exciting. Until then, the Curate and I need to try wave jumping together.