He and it knows my stories.
My sister and I grew up coming with our family to the beach. We played for a while in the water, then daddy fried fish and we ate at the park, alongside the beach. Other family members and friends came too. The highlight of the evening was going to the local amusement park. What great childhood memories!
I went as a teenager. We would go after prom and take our blankets down and sit on them. There is nothing like teenage love....We watched the song and dance of the waves, and watched as the sun sank low into the water. We kissed. Might have had a little wine. Love was definitely in the air.
I remember taking my son and his friends. I also took my grandsons. I watched them as they dug huge tunnels, caves, or forts as they called them. They would completely bury themselves in the sand except for their heads. There's nothing like watching boys at the beach. They're constantly busy. Digging, throwing, swimming, pushing. When I think about those days, it makes me smile.
Single again, but this time divorced, I remember walking on the beach, praying, wondering, will I ever have someone to spend time with again on this small piece of heaven? I remember walking to a little beach cafe with it's deck that extended onto the sand, I heard the song from a distance and it seemed to draw me closer. I listened to the words; Wanna steal a piece of time? You could sing a melody to me and I could write a couple lines. You wanna make a memory?...I sat down on the deck and I teared up. Would I every know love again?
I get to go often now, because my sister has a place close to the beach. My sister, elderly mother and I go. We want to make the most of these last years that we have with her. We watch our mom carefully as she trudges through the sand, knowing it's difficult for her, but not dare giving up. I think that she knows if she gives up, she's giving up a piece of her independence. She has walked the beach for many years since coming to Florida with my dad in 1952.
During a recent visit this spring, My husband and I came. He doesn't like the sand or the sun very much. But, he loves me. That is why he goes. He sits and reads a book. I read, listen to music and watch people. I observed a family with a child in a wheelchair. The child was not able to sit up and was lying in the stroller/wheelchair with feeding tubes coming from her little body. I couldn't help but stare. But, more than a stare I was in awe of the mom and dad as they so unselfishly gave of themselves to do everything within their power to help their child have fun. She couldn't run and play in the sand and water but oh, she had a first class ride in her little carriage, as her loving mom pulled in the front and her gloating dad pushed in the back. Laughing every step of the way. I sat amazed. They didn't let it hinder them at all that she couldn't run and play in the sand like all the other children. They made all the precious memories that they could. Time was on their side. What a loving story they told.
Stories of love, hope, and faith.... The stories are recorded in the majestic waves, etched in the white sand, painted in the setting sun and photographed in all its beauty. The stories are are in the singer songwriters lyrics and penned in the writers journals. God's incredible creative handiwork... a magnificent place for all of us to tell our stories. Thank you Father for your creation that you created for us to enjoy for a lifetime.
Living Loved,
Sammie Jean
