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There is no one else on the beach as the sun begins to slide into a vast ocean, further than I can imagine. A slight breeze makes me glad for the light sweater. I must have walked for miles, or so it seems.
The gentle lapping sound at water’s edge is soothing. I am entranced with the way barefoot prints fill so quickly and then disappear as if I were never there. A few lagging seagulls have one more thing to say as they make for port; like calling out a last good night to all their mirror images.
We do not understand each other, yet we exist peacefully here at the shore. Besides, I am the one with the stale bread who is anxious to share. They have nothing for me, except as a lovely addition to this seascape. It is not always about getting. Giving has its own reward.
I turn to retrace steps already erased and forgotten. It must be the way God sees our sin when we ask forgiveness: gone. The air is so fresh I must stop and concentrate on inhaling. It is not as if I have never breathed this unique mixture of salt and sand and ocean life before, but this minute it brings a new satisfaction to my soul.
Tonight I am not fretting or pleading. I am not on my face begging for God’s mercy and restoration. There is no pain in my heart so deep that I must add drops of tears to the gentle warmth of salty water covering my toes as it moves its mark with each wave.
I can barely see my special rock on which I lean. It is safe from the tide – just. There on my Grandma’s old quilt I drop down for a rest, and to be still and listen. This is almost heaven, this comforting sound of the cleansing of the beach. All signs of disturbance are washed out to sea and I am so filled with the presence of the Savior I can only give thanks.
“Thank you, Lord,” I sing. “Thank you for putting me where I belong. Thank you for using me to your Glory, for giving me a gift, for teaching me to use it, for providing for me, for loving me. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.”
“Praise your Holy name. I love you Lord. You are a mighty fortress, the rock of my salvation, the Alpha and Omega. I stand in awe of you. Your presence is palpable and real and I lift holy hands to worship and adore you, precious Savior.”
Hours pass, yet I am unaware. The giving of thanks continues and peace overflows my heart. I am drenched with love and ready to obey. I gather up the quilt and shake out the sand, then wrap it around myself like a mantle and, one step at a time, take the last leg of my journey home.
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