I have never loved the beach.
I know it's beautiful. I know it is a place of relaxation and solace. It is a place to feel the sun kiss our skin with its warmth and to have the ocean wash away our worries, but oh my goodness. I cannot for the life of me like it no matter how hard I try.
I never appreciated how close I have always lived to the beach until I was far away from it in landlocked Utah. (Isn't that how it always goes?) Every time I've been home I have so wanted to go to the familiar beaches of childhood, but once I get there I rediscover my dislike. I don't get why or how I can't love this beautiful creation God has blessed me with, so don't ask. It's just always been that way, even when I was a baby.
The mountains are where my solace lies. I feel God's power in the mountains. I feel the strength He has that He can grant me when I need it. I have always kind of felt that the mountains represented God's great power and majesty while the ocean represented His peace and comfort (even if the sand in my bathing suit bottoms distracted me from feeling that peace and comfort sometimes). I can appreciate the beauty of the beach and that symbol that it is of peace, but the beauty of the mountains seeps into my heart and leaves me in awe.
So, on the Fourth of July when the plan was to go to the St. Augustine Beach with the family in the morning I was not exactly thrilled. I had slight excitement ringing in my mind because it had been awhile since I'd been to the beach, but the excitement did not ring as loud as my knowledge that I would not love it and I would feel bad for not loving it.
It was a special Fourth of July in the fact that it was the interim time between my Aunt Chris' death and her funeral. We all just wanted a day free of hurting. We wanted to celebrate as Chris would have wanted us to. So, we did. I told myself I would like the beach that day no matter how much I had to lie to myself. My family would be there and that would be enough for me to like it. End of story.
I got out of the car and headed toward our little spot in the sand. As we were setting up camp, I looked out at the ocean and I suddenly felt that familiar feeling of God's love. I felt the gentleness of His comfort as others do when they see the eternity of His ocean. It seeped into my heart as the mountains always do. It was probably only for that day that I loved the beach, but it was a day I will be forever grateful for. In the middle of our week of tears and heartache, God was there for my family on that beach as we celebrated not just our country's freedom, but our family's eternity.
On that day, even as the afternoon thunderstorms rolled in, all was well with my soul.
I know it's beautiful. I know it is a place of relaxation and solace. It is a place to feel the sun kiss our skin with its warmth and to have the ocean wash away our worries, but oh my goodness. I cannot for the life of me like it no matter how hard I try.
I never appreciated how close I have always lived to the beach until I was far away from it in landlocked Utah. (Isn't that how it always goes?) Every time I've been home I have so wanted to go to the familiar beaches of childhood, but once I get there I rediscover my dislike. I don't get why or how I can't love this beautiful creation God has blessed me with, so don't ask. It's just always been that way, even when I was a baby.
The mountains are where my solace lies. I feel God's power in the mountains. I feel the strength He has that He can grant me when I need it. I have always kind of felt that the mountains represented God's great power and majesty while the ocean represented His peace and comfort (even if the sand in my bathing suit bottoms distracted me from feeling that peace and comfort sometimes). I can appreciate the beauty of the beach and that symbol that it is of peace, but the beauty of the mountains seeps into my heart and leaves me in awe.
So, on the Fourth of July when the plan was to go to the St. Augustine Beach with the family in the morning I was not exactly thrilled. I had slight excitement ringing in my mind because it had been awhile since I'd been to the beach, but the excitement did not ring as loud as my knowledge that I would not love it and I would feel bad for not loving it.
It was a special Fourth of July in the fact that it was the interim time between my Aunt Chris' death and her funeral. We all just wanted a day free of hurting. We wanted to celebrate as Chris would have wanted us to. So, we did. I told myself I would like the beach that day no matter how much I had to lie to myself. My family would be there and that would be enough for me to like it. End of story.
I got out of the car and headed toward our little spot in the sand. As we were setting up camp, I looked out at the ocean and I suddenly felt that familiar feeling of God's love. I felt the gentleness of His comfort as others do when they see the eternity of His ocean. It seeped into my heart as the mountains always do. It was probably only for that day that I loved the beach, but it was a day I will be forever grateful for. In the middle of our week of tears and heartache, God was there for my family on that beach as we celebrated not just our country's freedom, but our family's eternity.
On that day, even as the afternoon thunderstorms rolled in, all was well with my soul.
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