I didn’t learn to pray in a church. I mean, I learned the mechanics there: the bowed head, the closed eyes, the “dear Lord” opener and the “amen” closer. I learned to pray before meals and before bed and before meetings. I learned to pray when things were bad and to forget to pray when things were good.
But I didn’t learn to really pray until I started surfing. This is a reflection on surfing and prayer, and what the ocean taught me about faith that twelve years in a pew never could.
The Paddle Out: A Reflection on Surfing and Prayer
Here’s what nobody tells you about paddling out: it’s the hardest part. Not standing up. Not reading the waves. Not even the wipeouts. The hardest part is the paddle out: lying flat on your board, arms burning, waves smacking you in the face, every stroke taking you further from the safety of the shore and deeper into something you can’t control.
The first time I paddled out at Brooks Street in Laguna Beach, I was terrified. Not of drowning: the waves were small, the water was warm, and I could see the bottom. I was terrified of the feeling. The feeling of being in something so much bigger than me, moving in a rhythm I didn’t set, and having absolutely no say in when the next wave would come or what it would do.
That feeling? That’s prayer. Real prayer. Not the kind where you hand God a grocery list and wait for delivery. The kind where you stop talking, stop controlling, stop performing, and just sit in the presence of something infinite, knowing it could crush you and trusting that it won’t.
Waiting for the Wave
Beginner surfers make the same mistake every time: they paddle for every wave. Every ripple, every bump, every piece of whitewash: they go for it, arms flailing, burning energy, catching nothing.
Experienced surfers wait. They sit in the lineup, reading the horizon, watching the sets form miles away. They let waves pass. They’re patient in a way that looks almost lazy from the shore. But they’re not lazy. They’re discerning.
I spent years praying the way beginners surf: chasing every open door, every opportunity, every sign I thought God was sending. Exhausting myself paddling for waves that weren’t mine. Getting pummeled by waves I should have let pass.
The ocean taught me to wait. To sit still on the board and watch the horizon. To trust that the right wave was coming and that I’d know it when I saw it. Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still and know that I am God.” I’d read that verse a hundred times. I didn’t understand it until I was sitting on a board in the lineup, watching the Pacific, and finally not paddling.
That stillness is where this faith reflection on surfing and prayer starts to make sense. You can’t manufacture a wave. You can’t force the right moment. You can only position yourself, stay open, and trust that what’s coming is bigger than what you’re chasing.
The Wipeout
Every surfer wipes out. Every single one. The question isn’t whether you’ll go down; it’s what you do when the water holds you under.
The first time I got held down by a wave, I panicked. I thrashed. I clawed for the surface. I swallowed water. And then I came up, gasping, and realized: I was fine. The hold-down lasted maybe four seconds. It felt like forty. But the ocean let me go. It always does.
That’s grace.
Grace is the surface you always rise to. No matter how long the hold-down, no matter how dark it gets underneath, no matter how much water you swallow, you come back up. Every time. James 1:2–3 says to “consider it pure joy when you face trials of many kinds, because the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” I used to think that verse was about gritting your teeth. Now I think it’s about relaxing underwater and trusting that the surface is right there.
The Ride
And then there’s the ride itself. The moment a wave picks you up and carries you. You didn’t create the wave. You didn’t earn it. You just positioned yourself in the right place, at the right time, and said yes.
That’s what worship feels like when it’s real. Not performing. Not singing the right words at the right time. Just being carried by something you didn’t generate, couldn’t manufacture, and can’t replicate on command. The wave is a gift. Your job is to stand up and enjoy it.
Why Did I Build Surf + Soul?
I built Surf + Soul because I believe the ocean is a teacher that most Christians have never sat under. We go to conferences. We read books. We listen to podcasts. We attend services. All good things. But most of us have never stood chest-deep in the Pacific at sunrise and felt the waves hit our body while someone reads Proverbs 3:5 aloud.
There’s a version of faith that lives in your head. And there’s a version that lives in your body: in salt water and tired arms and sand between your toes and the sound of a wave breaking behind you as you ride it to shore. Surf + Soul exists because I needed that second version. And I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one.
This faith reflection on surfing and prayer comes down to one thing: the ocean taught me to pray by teaching me to stop controlling the conversation. To paddle out into something bigger. To wait. To trust the hold-down. To ride the wave I was given. And to go back out and do it again tomorrow.
That’s prayer. That’s faith. That’s the ride.
The scriptures that make that ride most vivid are worth reading on their own: five scriptures that come alive differently in the ocean than they do in any pew.
Frequently Asked Questions
Who is Zane Schulte?
Zane Schulte is the founder of Surf + Soul, a 7-day faith-based surf retreat operating on Nicaragua’s Pacific coast at Mandla Oceanfront Retreat in El Tránsito. He founded Surf + Soul after discovering that surfing taught him more about prayer, surrender, and faith than years of traditional church attendance.
What is Surf + Soul?
Surf + Soul is a 7-day, all-inclusive faith-based surf retreat in Nicaragua. It combines professional surf coaching with daily Scripture-based programming, twice-daily Holy Yoga, community service, and signature experiences including the Paddle Out Circle and The Commission ceremony. Each retreat hosts a maximum of 8 guests at $6,750 per person.
How does surfing relate to prayer and faith?
Surfing teaches prayer through physical experience: the paddle out teaches surrender, waiting for waves teaches discernment and trust, wipeouts teach perseverance and grace, and riding a wave mirrors worship. These parallels form the theological core of Surf + Soul’s day-by-day retreat programming.
Where do Surf + Soul retreats take place?
Surf + Soul retreats take place at Mandla Oceanfront Retreat in El Tránsito, Nicaragua, on the Pacific coast. Guests fly into Managua’s Augusto C. Sandino International Airport (MGA) and are transferred to the venue, approximately 90 minutes from the airport.
The ocean is our church. Courage is worship. Community is calling. We are Surf Souls.