beach

Healing Observed

Abuse Survivor, aging, beach, Children, confidence, contentment, courage, family, grace, grandchildren, memoir, patience, Peace, Redemption, rest, Trust, Vulnerability, waiting, wisdom, wonder

“And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.”
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Solitary Watcher

I’ll likely forget it but I chose “healed” on a reset of yet another password forgotten.

Such is life.

Such is the life of one grandmother on the beach walking, eyes to the crannies and nooks created by the rocky barrier.

Deciding I found the perfect golden conch yesterday.

Announcing to my daughter “I’ve never found one like this before”.

No need for new discoveries today, I just whispered to myself.

That one, a reply to a choice to “find the joy today” on yesterday morning needs nothing more.

Not a grander discovery.

No comparisons.

I’m on the beach alone under the tent erected by my kind son in law. Chairs waiting to be plopped down on remain bottomless.

Surveying all the people. Older ones strolling, younger ones strutting.

Noticing

I consider their lives, curious over their stories.

I remember my self-defensive anger so many years ago when a woman who was struggling and angry over expectations of a program I oversaw,

Shouted at me,

“You don’t understand! You’ve got a picture perfect life!”

And I replied not with shouting but more of a how dare you to presume I’ve never had a “bad life”, I assure you I have not!

Today, walking along the edge of the ocean, glancing up towards our umbrella to greet my family’s arrival,

I realized a new thing.

Discoveries

I paused to pray for healing for typical childhood ailments, for others undergoing treatment and for pending resolutions to questions.

I thanked God for the good things already.

And I felt my breath catch in my chest and stood still to really acknowledge

The realization that maybe thinking of others, praying for others, offering open-handed surrender of others to heaven, rather than prayers and longings for self…

Might just be the evidence of one who is

Healed.

On the way to there, at least.

Farther along.

Because maybe, just maybe my life is not perfect but very

Close to the picture of what is closer and closer than I’d ever imagined.

Because of a heart that’s surrendered to softening, has opened all the locked windows and flung open the doors to hurts hidden, held onto for far too long.

Healed and still healing.

Observing.

Alone With My Faith

Abuse Survivor, beach, confidence, contentment, Faith, grace, hope, memoir, patience, Peace, Prayer, Redemption, rest, Stillness, testimony, traumatriggers, Vulnerability, wisdom, wonder
Edisto Beach Shells

I woke without alarm and quietly found my clothes. Carefully, I remembered the sandals were on top. The contacts were turned right side up and the bathroom window gave enough light for a splash of cold water on my cheeks.

The old door creaked as I closed it. Bare feet on the steps, I saw the pink behind me as I thought nothing of walking alone on our last vacation morning.

The promise of grandeur was kept. I thought if I could touch the far away sun, I’d never let go.

Edisto Beach

Decided that’s why we’re not made to hold such things, we’d cling so fiercely we might never see from a distant perspective.

“How deep is your faith?”

I asked myself this morning, the question in the tune of the Bee Gee’s song.

Edisto Beach

Riding home from a week away, I enjoyed what my husband calls a “conversation hiatus”, a thing he will never fully understand. I’m just glad he allows it. I thrive on quiet. I require a flushing of the mental overload, a reset of sorts, a not always pleasant assessment of events, conversations, interactions and pushed to the side for later thoughts.

Processing, becoming prayers. Seeing from a distance, not holding tight or looking too close.

Heal what is hurting. Mend what is broken. Speak what needs to be heard. Continue with me, Lord, these lessons I might begin to live, to teach.

Edisto Beach

Find me, Lord, where I left you.

Keep changing my perspective, Father. Keep redeeming what is not mine to remake.

Psalm 23 became a plea in a hospital bed for me back in 2019. Maybe I made it more than it was, the scary episode of vertigo that refused to quit. Likely, I did make it bigger than it was.

Because it wasn’t the episode, it was the fear. It was the trigger of being forced to quit or being grabbed and shaken, being unable to escape a violent grip.

Over and over for months, I said to myself.

“The Lord is my shepherd. I have everything I need.”, taking the opening line of a well known Psalm and making it mine.

Now, I prefer a different translation.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
‭‭Psalm‬ ‭23:1‬ ‭ESV‬‬

One that reminds me no matter what, how, or when…I shall not be in want.

My faith will and has sustained me.

In the morning when I rise, I’ll keep considering my perspective. In all that affects me, I will pause and examine the ways I have changed.

I’ll give myself a minute and I’ll ask, “How deep is your faith.”

Knowing that’s all that matters and knowing that’s all and only what makes me, me.

And I shall not want.

“…that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭2:3‬ ‭ESV

Edisto Birds

I shall continue.

Continue and believe.

Hope you do too.

Looking For Day

anxiety, beach, birds, contentment, courage, family, hope, Peace, Prayer, rest, Stillness, Vulnerability, waiting, wonder

Windows without screens were raised in the dark. No breeze through the night, only murmurs of others and the occasional firefly spark.

Someone had an accident, downed a power pole they say fueled the entire island.

Streets welcomed walkers, children giggled and competed on their bicycles. We joined the porch sitters who hoped it wouldn’t take long.

All night long was powerless, no covers, nothing but time for intermittent prayers and mind wondering worries, sleeping in our undies with the door open.

Morning began with the chatter of insects, birds, other sounds I had no idea signaled the morning to wake up.

I tiptoed through the beach house and decided to go, to go find the new day, the sea and birds.

And they came and kept coming, their flight like a dance and a song.

God’s hands on the harp, the long and low strokes causing melody and chorus.

Rhythm.

The lifting of the wings, the beaks straight and strong, the dipping down and the floating back up

Crescendo.

And I, with no charge on my phone for more photos, making it 10,001.

But, these and this came before

Saying, sit and rest.

The show is not yet done.

The morning after the blackout night, windows open and a mind that refused to be quiet.

The electricity returned before morning and rather than sleep I went looking for God, looking for day.

I believe I will again tomorrow.

Sit in the awe and wonder, listen to God.

“In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly.”
‭‭Psalm ‬ ‭5:3‬ ‭NIV‬‬