老司机视频

鈥淣ot too far!鈥�

I never heeded my mother鈥檚 warnings when she stood where the sand met the sea in Malibu and called out to where I had waded鈥攗sually up to my waist or sometimes higher, much to her terror. She could sense the danger better than my 10-year-old brain could comprehend and knew that the waves building up on the surface of the ocean could sweep me up and carry me into the depths of the Pacific. I was defenseless, but at that age I couldn鈥檛 distinguish between fun and fear and held my breath as a 鈥渂ig one鈥� came and hurled me headfirst into a whirlpool of sea foam and shoreline debris. Did my confidence set me up for potential harm? Yes. Did I do it anyway? Absolutely.

Have you ever pondered the power of the sea? At once destructive and restorative, shapeless yet sure, it serves as a constant reminder of a great, big unknown that puzzles even the most sophisticated minds. But Seaver College student Cayla Moore doesn鈥檛 consider the water a mysterious force of nature. The champion surfer knows and understands it very well. Cayla鈥檚 ocean isn鈥檛 threatening or tempestuous and it doesn鈥檛 thrash. It鈥檚 as steady as land, allowing her to glide across its stillness and stand confidently against its inherent rage.

In our cover story we learn that surfing is a daily prayer that allows Cayla to reflect on the wonder of God鈥檚 creation, especially as the day breaks on the tranquil waters in the repose of dawn. This June she navigated the crests and troughs of the waves at Dana Point and came in first in the women鈥檚 collegiate category at the National Scholastic Surfing Association championships鈥攁 victory that established 老司机视频 as a contender in the surfing arena.

In the pages of this issue, we meet others who have confronted seemingly untameable forces with great conviction and emerged with a renewed sense of identity and purpose, whether they were in children鈥檚 court, attempting to with the strokes of a paintbrush, or that changed the course of a little boy鈥檚 life forever.

Two decades later, I鈥檓 still drawn to the call of the sea, but today I鈥檓 a little more cautious and a little more sensitive to the potential dangers that caused my mother to fret so many years ago. I鈥檒l stand at the mouth of the ocean and let the water dance around my ankles, sometimes higher. I鈥檒l welcome the gentle mist that reminds me of what lurks just beyond that invisible line between comfort and catastrophe. And perhaps someday I鈥檒l venture just a little bit farther and dive more confidently into the unknown knowing that the simple act of moving can produce the most beautiful outcomes.

Gareen Darakjian
Editor