The lady at check-out had told us to stop off at Harris Beach, if we got the chance. She didn’t say our lives would never be the same, if we didn’t. She should’ve.
We followed a brush shaded walking path, generously covered with a week old, chocolate/gold leaf carpet. Then out into the open, to paradise. I carefully stepped over an ancient washed ashore tree and saw what freedom looks like. Immediately my lips sang words in praise of you, out loud, as if I’d always known the song!
Barefoot I stood in the sand watching the left over lace from a powerful receding wave, tickle my toes and erase early morning deer tracks. Scattered mini mountains soldiered the shoreline as if they were my personal guardians. As the surprising November sun warmed my face, I felt your watchful eye upon me.
My arms lifted from my side without permission, a signal to my spirit’s invisible wings to fly closer, higher and light upon your shoulder to hear your morning whisper and feel your breath in my hair. I heard you and replied, “What you have made is good indeed, my Lord!”
White knuckled waves clinch the rocks before me, shake the earth beneath me, thunder all around me and I tremble in reverence. But I only bow to you. The faith pulsing behind this mortal frame, because of the cross – is stronger than this sea.
My body is but a pebble on this glorious shore, but a pebble with a purchased soul. This pebble sized faith can speak to this untamed leviathan as if I were the moon’s gravity itself and freeze the tide mid roll, if you asked me to, just as Moses stretched his staff towards the Red Sea. It parted, folded back on itself, lifted towards the heavens and for what? For your Glory!
I could live on this beach, I could lay in this sand for eternity! I recall a prayer spoken one year prior, an ache for a beach, and a rest, a vision of sand and sun. Here I am and here You are! And knowing You and Your love, should I be surprised?