Saturday, June 30, 2012
My whole soul has been begging to write. I feel urged and pushed into it especially when everything around me looks, smells and sounds beautiful. We are packed into the condo with a good assortment of cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. My children mix with the others- link arms, giggle in couch corners and stay up late for ice-cream. I love the way none of them seem to even notice that the people out number the beds-to them, it's the best way to stay.
I haven't been sleeping well. I have exactly zero time alone these days and so when everyone is at last quiet for the night my mind starts racing around and around like it's trying to hurry and cram every bit of thinking in before the finish line of quiet is breached and I am surrounded by needs again. So yesterday when the baby was sleeping and Ella was entranced by a dune of sand, a shovel and an old happy meal toy, I tapped Scott on the shoulder from his position at left field (in the middle of beach baseball, no less!) and told him I was leaving for a walk.
I set the I-pod to hymns and I started a fast walk up the ocean line. I took full and complete breaths and I blew them away hard and long. When I found a spot I liked, I sat down and turned down the sound so I could pray. I loved feeling like I could at last really tell Heaven just how thankful I am.
This week has been glory at it's best. Sun and salty breeze and happy copper faced kids that come and drip cold bits of ocean on my knees while they rummage my bag for a snack, usually reaching out to show me their latest treasure from the waves. A shimmery shell, a smooth rock, a lobster tail.
A piece of Heaven lives here at this place where Scott played every summer as a kid and where sand inevitably finds it's way into the bed sheets. I am so thankful that we are weaving those same magical memories into their growing minds too. And when we get home and seal up another mason jar full of sand and shells, I will feel sure that we are also storing away everything they'll need to see them through homework and stress and money...when that day comes barging in.
But today is not that day.