beach

Thanks to the generosity of friends, we are able to spend a few quiet days enjoying the unique beauty of Choctawhatchee Bay in northern Florida. We look forward to our time at the bay. This place is so much more than a vacation destination. The memories of laughter, fierce competition of during crab hunts and Frisbee football, failed attempts at meeting the sunrise or dealing with splinters offer an open armed welcome to the presenting moments. Life is savored at the bay house, anticipated—enjoyed. Time, as it is sure to do, raced past us without apology and this was our first visit back to the bay since Hurricane Katrina made her devastating swath. The shoreline had endured a radical change; yet it was just at beautiful if not more so than before.

Interestingly, the occupants that held their own during the storm were not the majestic pines that strikingly created a postcard picture upon approach to the beach house or the weathered palms that created a tropical atmosphere for anxious beachgoers. The amazing sentinels that held ground as Katrina’s surge waters pelted this part of the Gulf Coast were the wiry saw grasses, the sea oats and various other non descript forms of vegetation. They were unheralded guards captured in photographs because they happened to flank the front of the beach house. The grasses stood, unnoticed by a grand majority of the people walking on or past them everyday. Yet, if this faded, worn, faithful, tough old grass had not stood the storms life had thrown at them, I wouldn’t be enjoying this lovely gray morning from my seat here in the beach house.

What a picture of parenting. There’s a great possibility that most retreating to this wonderful place will never be grateful for the weathered vegetation posted between the water’s edge and the condo. It is highly unlikely that the visitors making the trek to the bay will be grateful for the tough tendrils that have to be navigated through or cut back to get to the water’s edge. However, it’s these unsung heroes that the Creator uses to hold the ground tightly during the storm. These bland, spindly, weathered watchmen are part of the grand scheme of divine intervention that keeps the bay house on solid ground.

Many times as a parent I feel like a faded, discarded nuisance, much like the grass around the bay house. Lord, thank you for this amazing illustration. Thank you for the opportunity to touch generations I will not know. Remind me to faithfully keep my place, fulfilling your call, perhaps buffering those who rarely (if ever) acknowledge my worth from certain ruin. Thank you for holding life in the palm of your hand—without fanfare and (unfortunately) much of the time without acknowledgment. Thank you for the salt air and a renewed sense of purpose and resolve.

laughter

It was one of those rare evenings. The “Kodak moment” kind of evening that you wish could last forever. Too bad there is not a way to suspend time and just stay in those moments. Gratefully, life's brevity has taught us that these moments are precious, few and are to be held close to our hearts so that they may be soundly imprinted for recall another day.

Without discussion, Linnie and I both recorded every split second. Our youngest son had taken a seat across the room and as if on cue had started to tell stories from his high school days (His rationale was that the statute of limitations were long gone and he could not be prosecuted). Laughter resonated throughout the house as he embellished past memories as if they had happened a century ago. Neither his dad nor I changed our expression when he silenced his cell phone. Any change may break the magic and we were not about to take a chance. When a twenty year old silences his phone it is a serious matter.

Lord, you must laugh a lot; laughter is music to earth. Universally, it is good and the way of expressing the overflow of humor's effect. No two people laugh the same; like a fingerprint or a snowflake; our laughter is unique to us and a pleasure to the ears of our Creator. Heaven's heartbeat simplified into a human expression. Bless you, Abba. Laughter is an amazing phenomenon. It has been proven to aid in healing, lower blood pressure and raise brain chemicals that ward off depression. The Bible says, “a merry heart doeth good like a medicine” Proverbs 17:22.

Sidelight: The next morning, an entire hour of programming on our Christian Radio Station, WLBF was dedicated to....Laughter. It would seem that Heaven was making a point.

steps

Months of pressing forward...just take the next step. God blesses small, faithful steps and big, fearful ones and those we take when we are pushed and we clumsily land a little dazed waiting for the next instruction. God is gracious and merciful and loving and kind and just. He is so different from us, so different from our earthly endeavors and yet, he understands. His word is clear that he cares and he has felt every feeling that we will ever experience. Since, the pressing forward is motivated by his sovereign plan—the pressing down can only be explained and patiently endured by his sovereign grace.

You are my deliverer and my strength. As you have faithfully held me in the past, I know that the trials of this moment are minute from your perspective. The onslaught of broken promises; the blood shot eyes that were so full of hope when they looked out the window of the rehabilitation center attempt to look any other direction than mine. How do I tell her little boy that she is going to jail? What else could have been done? Should I have just camped out on her front step? Oh Father, does your heart hurt when I break my promises to you? The numbing sound of a dial tone, confirmation that the conversation has been terminated without being completed. The rejection that was once a simple, questioned undercurrent is now a full blown tsunami. Do you feel an emptiness within your chest when I reject you by living for myself? Family member are supposed to love, forgive, understand and care. The members of your family are supposed to do the same, aren't we? We live so selfishly and choose our own way and your heart is broken—yet, you never give up. You never give up. Your mercies are new every morning. So, I am able to stand up and walk forward when, I would rather hide away—I am able to love when, the rejection has been so devastating that my emotions have been torn to shreds.

My heart is so sad. I know that I am not alone but, my feelings scream otherwise. You are my majority. Today, I want to “want” according to your will and your perfect plan. I want to live according to whatsoever things are lovely and walk as a luminary of the Holy Spirit reflecting the fruit of your Light: love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance (Galatians 5:22-23) You Father, speak light and life so whom shall I fear? What dark sadness can diminish your everlasting day? Your light is not kindled by earthly measures. Your light is not extinguished by earthly means. Your light forces away the darkness. Your peace resonates a beautiful melody to even the most remote cavern of my soul. You fill my life with light and song and power and the will to take the next step.

perspective

Thank you for the holly tree at my window. The red berries with the snow are absolutely beautiful. All of creation, softly screams, “You are God, Lord, Master, Creator, Savior, everlasting….the awesome I Am”. Thank you for leading me to choose to praise you for the beauty of the snow on the holly bush at my kitchen window instead of fussing over ruined belongings that were left on the patio table at the back door.

It goes without saying that two dozen different scenarios stomped around my brain. Their steps were so loud that it was easy to discount the rapid fire of apologies that came from each family member that had not only put my things on the table, but left them there after being asked to bring them in. Screaming would not change the fact that my notebooks were soaking wet. Angry tears threatened and then forced themselves to the edges of my eyelids. Why didn’t I check behind them? Why didn’t someone take care of me the way that I take care of them? No need to rehearse the whys; find something constructive to do.

Washing dishes is always a great diversion. You become invisible when you wash dishes. You can cry, pray, fuss (to yourself) and solve all of the world’s problems while standing in front of the sink. Dishes are a marvelous diversion and you can count on the fact that at my house there are always “diversions” lounging in the kitchen sink. As I began to depopulate the contents of the sink and review my losses something wonderful happened. My mind wandered from the insensitivity of my family to the majesty less than a yard from my nose. The frosty fluff just outside the kitchen scattered as a little wren attempted to land on a frozen limb. The crystal covering that remained on the berries served as a magnifying glass and as the timid sunlight brushed its surface—a simple holly bush became a work of art.

The kitchen was quiet. My family shared their condolences regarding my disparaged paperwork and moved on quickly so as not to be drawn into the dish detail. Oh, they usually help but, they know that there are times when the dishes serve as therapy and none of them would want to interfere with the therapeutic process. The warm sudsy water and the flight of a perky feathered friend had diverted my attention to a grander scheme.

It’s snowing on my little green hill, it’s snowing. All of a sudden the same destructive force that ruined my papers was welcomed and wonderful. With my daughter and husband as willing recruits, we went out to construct the perfect snowman (snowwoman), complete with Spanish moss hair and scaly arms compliments of the stately long leaf pine that cover this part of the country. My grandsons joined us later making snow angels and throwing snowballs. My world for this small block of time was pristine and perfect.

Thank you, Lord for providing the sense and self control to run to the dishes instead of into a tirade. Thank you for dusting the south with snow. It was short-lived but just fantastic. You did a lovely job with the holly bush by the way. Thank you for not allowing my hurt feelings to become weapons of mass destruction to be used against my precious family. Certainly, changing a human heart is a bigger miracle than designing a lovely tree with crimson berries or pushing crystals of frozen fluff from of the edge of Heaven.

We all know that snowmen or snowwomen must have smiles. We considered our options and then my daughter headed to the holly bush. The red berries would be just the thing to bring a smile to this frozen face. Well of course, the holly berries, they had already done a remarkable job of warming a very cold heart.