We're leaving in the morning for our annual trip to the coast... we stay in a beach house that we rent with my brother and his family.
This is the eighth year we've gone.
I never get tired of it.
I'm particularly ready for it this year.
I've much to ponder in the sand.
My head clears more quickly to the sound of the surf than I can ever hope it to in the midst of daily chores and responsibilites.
And so - this year - when I've been so stretched and am struggling to find myself in the midst of my recent experiences, I welcome the waves and the wind and the seemingly endless expanse of the shoreline.
God and I have some talking to do.
And there's no better place for that than the beach.
It'll be a good week.
Smooches, dear ones.
I'll be back...