Finding hope after difficult times sometimes begins with remembering one simple truth: the tide always comes back in.

The Tide Always Comes Back In

Living near the ocean teaches you a few things.

For one, never underestimate a seagull. If you’re holding a sandwich, they’re already discussing it in a committee meeting somewhere overhead.

Second, I’m fairly certain I once found it in a bra that I hadn’t worn in ages, which raised several questions I decided I didn’t need answered.

And finally, the tide always comes back in.

I’ve watched it my whole life, thousands of times. The water slips quietly away, leaving behind seaweed, shells, rocks, and little tide pools that suddenly appear where open water was just a few hours before.

Then, without any fanfare, it comes back. Every single time.

I’ve never once stood on the beach thinking, “Well…this could be the day it forgets.”

The Summer I Was Eight

When I was little, I loved hunting for treasures when the tide was out. I’d wander the beach with a bucket that was always much too big for me. Every shell looked like the greatest shell ever discovered. Every piece of sea glass deserved a celebration. Every little hermit crab was, obviously, my new best friend.

I’d become so busy looking down that I’d completely lose track of the water. Then I’d hear someone call, “Cheryl…time to move your bucket!”

Sure enough, the tide was quietly making its way back. Not in a hurry. Not trying to impress anyone. Just doing what tides have always done.

Looking back, I think I spent a lot of my life wishing I had that kind of confidence.

The Tide Never Panics

Have you ever noticed that? The ocean never rushes. It doesn’t suddenly decide, “I’d better hurry before somebody notices I’m running late.”

It simply comes back. Steady. Faithful. Completely unconcerned about my schedule.

I, on the other hand, have been known to panic because I couldn’t find my phone while I was talking on it.

We’re different that way.

Finding Hope After Difficult Times Requires a Little Waiting

If I could choose a spiritual gift, waiting would not make the list.

I’m the woman who starts checking for the package approximately twelve seconds after receiving the shipping confirmation. When life gets hard, I want answers. Preferably by Thursday.

I’ve prayed prayers that sounded suspiciously like customer service complaints: “Lord…I’m just checking on the status of this request. And if You could expedite shipping, that would be wonderful.”

The funny thing is, God has never once seemed flustered by my timetable.

And maybe that’s one of the hardest parts of finding hope after difficult times. Sometimes nothing changes right away. Sometimes the answer isn’t visible yet. Sometimes all we can do is trust that the water is still moving, even when the shoreline looks empty.

Low Tide Isn’t the End of the Story

There have been seasons when life felt like low tide. The house grew quieter. Plans changed. Money was tighter than I would’ve liked. People I loved were hurting. There were mornings when I looked around and wondered if things would ever feel full again.

Then something small would happen. A phone call. An unexpected laugh. A kind note in the mail. A sunset that stopped me in my tracks.

Nothing dramatic. Just enough to remind me that the water was already on its way back. I simply couldn’t see it yet.

I Still Love Looking for Shells

These days, I still walk the beach whenever I can. I still come home with more shells than any reasonable person needs. My grandchildren will probably inherit several jars labeled, “I’m sure these were important.”

I’m okay with that.

Because every shell reminds me that beautiful things are often easier to find when the tide is out. I hadn’t thought about that before.

Maybe that’s why I don’t mind the low tides quite as much anymore. They’re the only time you get to discover what’s been waiting beneath the surface all along.

A Little Porch Conversation

Friend, if life feels a little emptier than you’d hoped right now—if something changed, if you’re waiting for an answer, if you’re wondering whether things will ever feel full again—I won’t tell you to hurry up and feel hopeful.

Some seasons deserve tenderness.

But I will remind you of something I’ve watched the Atlantic Ocean do my entire life. It goes out. And then it comes back.

Not because I ask it to. Not because I worry enough. Not because I finally figure out the perfect plan. It simply returns—steady, faithful, exactly when it’s supposed to.

And perhaps finding hope after difficult times begins there. Not with knowing exactly when things will change, but with believing the story isn’t finished simply because you’re standing at low tide.

🐞 Stay Awhile…

If you’re not quite ready to leave the shoreline, here are a few more paths you might enjoy wandering down.

If you’ve been waiting for someday to finally begin living the life that’s already here…
→ The Myth of Someday

If you’re beginning a chapter you never expected and wondering whether something beautiful can still come from it…
→ The Unexpected Joy of Starting Over

And if you need a reminder that grace and joy can be hiding in the smallest ordinary moments…
→ What Ladybugs Taught Me About Finding Joy in Everyday Life

🍃 Come Find Your Spot

If you’re standing at low tide right now, I’d love to save you a quiet place here at the Cottage.

Become a Cottage Friend, and I’ll send you my free Welcome to the Cottage letter series—five little notes filled with humor, hope, and gentle reminders that difficult seasons don’t get the final word.

You don’t have to arrive with answers.

You don’t even have to arrive feeling hopeful.

Just come as you are.

We’ll keep the porch light on while the water finds its way back.

🍃 Come Find Your Spot

The porch light will always be on. 🐞