Constant.

With each shade in God’s sky, a new day arises. Every morning I walk the water’s edge anticipating what He has planned out for my day. Over the years, I have learned to start my morning this way; praying as the sand pushes from my feet and the ocean water cascades over the footsteps I have left behind. I always try to gaze at the horizon, trying to capture every moment of the show God has portrayed. With each passing minute the clouds move and the colors change and swirl. I have to be careful not to miss one second. 

Although, I could stay on this sand forever, my career calls my name and pulls me from the beach. Throughout the eight hour grind, I reminisce on the sunrise that started my day. After the rat-race of a day I come back to my place. I come back to where I need to be. 

 This is a place where I feel at peace, a place closest to God. He gave me this place, He gave me this constant, to give me peace and keep my faith. 

Young Hearts

They quietly tiptoed past the sleeping homes along the street. With each step they were closer to the beach and further from the shared vacation home. Both giggled as they made their way over the tall dune, anticipating the sand and waves. Nostalgia swept over, reminding them of their high school-sweetheart past and how they would sneak out late at night and not come back until well after morning.

Nighttime still swept over the beach, but the roar of the ocean was just as prominent in the dark as it was in daylight. A makeshift bed, composed of an old blanket and extra flannel shirts for pillows, gave them the perfect spot to enjoy the stars. On their backs they pointed out the constellations they could remember and giggled at the ones they would make up. With each passing minute they re-fell in love with one another as if it were their  first date all over again. Here they were almost twenty years later and still they made it a point to act like kids, just to keep the fire going.

While the stars burned and the crabs scurried through the sand, they lay there enjoying one another’s embrace, hoping this moment wouldn’t end. They talked and laughed well into the morning, until they knew they should go back before everyone wondered where they were, or had been. The sun began to take over his shift, shooing the moon and stars, and reminding them of the time they planned on going back. Instead, they stayed where they were watching the sun bust through the horizon, causing a cascade of colors to sweep across the sky.  How could they leave when everything was so perfect?

Woman and Sea

Desire to beat the odds coursed through her veins. She wanted to defeat the naysayers and all the garbage they threw from their mouths. She is strong, independent, someone everyone should aspire to be like. Push the odds, embrace the fall, and rise with a keen edge, was her game plan.

She came to this place because it fueled her, gave her strength. She wanted to mimic the sea. A natural beauty that was intriguing and dangerous all at once. She wanted to be a sanctuary for people, but stand entirely on her own, just as this salty body of water. She wanted everyone to witness all of her power in an awe-inspiring way. She knew she was destined for great things. And although the battle may be hard, she would fight back harder. Like the sea, she consumed the negativity and relinquished it when she felt to do so.

The God-given strength the ocean possesses seems to rub off onto her as she struts the shore’s edge. As she gazes out onto the horizon, she knows in that moment no one can define her but God, herself, and the sea.

First Sunrise

The waves rolled and crashed along the shore. The sun peeked up from the horizon, causing the island to stir. The sunlight slowly cascaded and stretched across the white sand, giving an iridescent appeal. Shells scattered along the sand became visible,  while small crabs started back for home, not wanting to be seen. The first sunrise while on vacation at the coast, was something that could only be cherished. In this exact moment, this place and point in time, was where all of life’s troubles were thrown to the tradewinds; Content washes over and bliss settles its way in. God himself painted this masterpiece  bringing contentment and satisfaction to those who were lost in the rat-race. God’s simple act of nature moves so many with a strong, yet subtle impact.

Coastal Daydream.

Rain slinked down the pane of glass, memorizing her attention. Lost in the tantalizing drops, she dreamed of what life along the Atlantic Coast would be like some far off day. With her eyes shut she reveled in the sunlight as her hair was thrown every which way from the salty air. Waves caused the hair on her bronzed arms to stand erect with the rhythmic melody they had created. A sense of content washed over her, bringing to her attention that she was finally where her soul could call home.

A place that made the storm inside finally calm, bringing tranquility with it. gazing she could see the lighthouse beckon to the boats off the shore, calling them home, just as it did for her. in her beautiful daydream she had finally made it to somewhere in the sun. Her eyes cracked open only to find the rain still falling. A smile broke on her face as a a result from knowing at heart she would eventually come to the place of peace, to forever reside in her salty daydream.

Where I am Now. 

The sun may beat down and the sand may get everywhere, but this beats where I used to be. When I hear, “a bad day at the beach beats a good day at work,” I can’t help but smile in the honesty that line holds. In the past I wanted it all. All the money and everything it could buy. Now, I only want to be rich in experience. 

All the money in the world couldn’t buy the experiences I have had. The people I’ve met, the connections I have made, can’t be bought with money. The seashells I have collected, the waves I have ridden, and the cares I have thrown to the tradewinds just make this all worth while. 

Everyday I wake with the roaring of the ocean. Everyday I get to be where my souls feels at peace. I get to be where I can hear God speak to me. I get to be where he created me to be. 

A Way to Get Away

Tyranny and chaos heavily hung in the air. Strong-hearted and hard-headed opinions shattered all hope. Darkness swept through, destroying everything in its path. Each blow inflicted, lit the fire more and more, and as the embers roared, so did she. Finally, she couldn’t take a single moment of it any longer and in an instant she was off.

She simply went away. As far and as fast as she could. Life wasn’t going to get the best of her any longer. Now, as the tide rolls and the breeze blows, she can’t remember what her worry was about. All the chaos that ravaged her life, was now thrown into the salty breeze to be taken to some far off shore.

Sunlight danced along the tops of the waves as she stared aimlessly into the horizon. This place brought her to a world where worries didn’t matter, being in the moment, this moment, was the only thing that mattered.

So much natural beauty encased this enchanted beach. The sun rose and fell here at God’s command. The palms swayed rhythmically, and shaded all who needed. Tropical birds harmonized with the roaring ocean, cascading a peaceful, tranquil aura.

Opinions, craziness, political views didn’t matter here. This was a place to get away. Her way to get away.

Palm and Ocean.

I have sat here so many times before. I yearn to sit in the sand under his slouch and prudent stance. This palm, he knows more about me than I even know myself. He has seen more of me than I even knew was there. I can’t help but feel the need to sit in the sand under his swaying protection. I can remember each time I’ve shared with him. He has been my confidant and a place to sit and stare out at my constant. I revel in the moments where I enjoy his company and am able to feel the warm sand cascade over my legs as I carefully spill the grains from my pruned hands.

He and the ocean go hand in hand. Throughout all my emotional states, they are there through thick and thin. In uncommon phases, the ocean, she offers a place for me to exert my bottled energy and the palm, he offers me a place of healing solitude. Even in my wildest storms, she will allow me to tear myself up and he will give me a place to calm down. In most of my phases, she bestows me with the strength that God has given her. And he gives me a grounded God-fearing purpose. 

As I continue to sit with my head resting on his trunk and my eyes fixated on her iridescent, pulsating waves I can only feel as if I am at the closest place to Heaven. I am at the place  where God wants me to be.

Seashell Mornings

  Every crisp morning I race over the dunes to catch the first glimpse of light across the white sand. In the nick-of-time, I make it to the peak just as the light begins to cascade over the beach. I am always welcomed with the tradewinds; lightly twirling my hair in a dancing motion. Standing motionless, mesmerized by God’s subtle beauties plastered across the beach, I can only seem to feel calm and as if all of life’s troubles slip into the salty breeze. 

   My joints begin to break the frozen, simplicity of my enjoyment, to send me on my reasoning for coming down here this early in the first place. Not even two steps into my stroll to the waters edge, I spy my first treasure of the day. A small, ebony shell peeks up from the sand and as I bend down to retrieve this small trinket, my eye catches another one and another one. As I continue to bend, never standing fully erect as I move, more and more shells come into sight. Finally I have made my way to where the waves kiss the shore. The weight in my old, rusty bucket pulls slightly on my arm, causing my mouth to turn up in sweet satisfaction. 

    Every day I search and search for more shells to collect. And my goal for each day is to make it to the pier before my bucket overflows. In a fortunate win-lose situation, my bucket is full before I make it to the bony structure coming out of the ocean. Regardless, I make my way under the pier to examine each and every shell I scooped up for the day.

    The sand under the pier is usually untouched at this time of day, making me feel as if this beach is mine and mine only. I spill my bucket over in childlike excitement, proudly reveling in the amount I have obtained. Each shell is different than the rest. Some may look the same but at further inspection each one has its own quirks. All are tumbled smooth from the pounding waves, but each one shows a different aspect of their endeavors. Although, they may have started out more rough and jagged, their journey to the shore left them smooth and soft. Finally when my inspections come to an end, I thank the Lord for the ability to enjoy the simplistic blessing the ocean and beach have to offer.