Well, I’m away from home. Again. That only took us what, less than 2 months? We’re not road-tripping, just staying at our favorite home-away-from-home: Lincoln City. About 3 years ago I became acquainted with a blogger from here. One crazy impulsive day I drove to LC to meet her. I fell in love with LC that day. The Husband asks if it’s her or LC…I say it’s a good toss-up. So, not only did God place one of my best friends into my life, he gave us a home, away from home. A place that we can relax, unwind and renew. Although I had visited LC many times before, there’s something about being here on the off-tourist season. To REALLY learn this town. To fall in love with the way the waves crash on the rocks. To know where to find the best coffee. The best agates. The best sunrises. To enjoy the beauty of the Oregon Coast without the touristy feel.
So, for the next 10 days I get to be here. Enjoying the lake, the waves and yes, the wind and rain. It is after all, fall…and that usually means an usher into the rainy season. Yesterday was a glorious break from the weather. We arrived and spent the afternoon soaking rays and watching our friends hit the waves. A simple dinner of veggies & steak and we crashed. I forgot how comforting it is to sleep in this vehicle.
This morning I awoke. To rain. Wind. Cold. Even Miss Holstein was refusing to participate. But unlike us humans, SHE has to go OUTSIDE. And that meant I had to go outside. In the rain. Sigh.
I could tell the kids woke up with the same feeling. Ugh. 10 days in the rain. I think we’re all in denial that the days of fun and sun are ending and it’s time for sweaters, soup and blankets. Time for intensive study. Time to just hibernate and let Mother Nature roar.
They rebelled by going back to bed. I decided to leave and take a break by myself. Went shopping at Goodwill, found some cute skirts. Then ran across to the store to get lunch. By this time I decided I was taking a Sabbath and doing nothing. So, I took my time in the store. Doing nothing. Taking forever to decide if I wanted a half-gallon or gallon of milk. Annoying myself because I was not hurrying fast enough.
I should have listened to my inner voice.
I left the store only to discover that the entire contents of the Oregon Coast sky decided to pour upon the parking lot. And wouldn’t you know it? I forgot where I parked the car. This was NOT the time for my brain to rebel. But rebel it did. My short-term memory circuit decided at that precise moment to not recall such a simple detail like where I parked the car. As I ran from aisle to aisle, soaking wet, I asked God to please help me find the car…probably before he started laughing at how ridiculous I looked. (Although I must say, my boots did look dang good and they kept my feet dry). Mercifully I found the car, jumped in, and the rain eased up.
I spent the afternoon with another friend talking about kids, marriage, forgiveness and our love for our Savior over a good cup of Ginger Lemon tea. The rain was still coming down in typical Oregon fashion. Good, steady, non-stop drip of cold, wet rain. I smiled, and thanked that I was not in South Dakota praying that a tornado was staying away from our trailer. I’ll take Oregon’s downpours over that ANY DAY!
When I got back to the trailer again, the kids had at least gone outside to walk the dog. She decided that the best way to spend a Sunday afternoon was on my legs. I let her. I fell asleep myself.
HALLELUJAH! I woke up to a break in the clouds. The rain stopped. I saw blue sky. And with that, we took off, to the beach. To Road’s End. To watch the sunset. Yep. I do love my friend…but I think this is truly what keeps bringing me back. To Road’s End. To a place where I can watch the sun set. A place where I feel close to my Savior. I find myself at peace here.
34 Thus saith the LORD, Who giveth the sun for a light by day, and the ordinances of the moon and of the stars for a light by night, who stirreth up the sea, that the waves thereof roar, the LORD of hosts is His name:
There’s something sweet and young about Bella still. She’s moving toward those years where childhood ends and teenhood begins. Yet, she’s rebelling the change. In her own way. When we get to the beach she asks if she can play on the side. Alone. This child understands the importance of solitude. She’s taught me so much. There’s time to be clingy. But sometimes what the soul needs is to be alone. To imagine. To dream. Or to just jump off the cliff. I smile as the pain in my heart tells me that these years are going to be over soon.
Gabby and I take Miss Holstein for a walk. She likes to walk with me. She doesn’t talk much. She just likes to be. There. In the Moment. I could learn a thing from this daughter of mine.
As we walk along the water’s edge, the waves lapping at our feet, I am amazed at how I feel the moment. Being there. Just alive. Keenly aware that my Savior is always there beside me. I imagine what the disciples must have felt walking along the Sea of Galilee albeit a little bit warmer. I find treasures. Crazy seaweed that look like logs. Moon jelly buttons. A bit of crab leg. The random bits of scrap. Then something catches my eye. I think it a moon jelly. But no. It’s hard.
A pure white stone (it may be glass) in the sand. At the edges of the wave. I pick it up. It will be examined by my friend who will tell me what it is. In the meantime, at home I search “sand” to find a scripture for this picture. Can you believe this? It’s Psalms 139. Our homeschool scripture this year. The one that God put on my heart for my children.
O Lord, You have searched me and known me.
You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
You comprehend my path and my lying down,
And are acquainted with all my ways.
For there is not a word on my tongue,
But behold, O Lord, You know it altogether.
You have hedged me behind and before,
And laid Your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
It is high, I cannot attain it.
Where can I go from Your Spirit?
Or where can I flee from Your presence?
If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
If I take the wings of the morning,
And dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there Your hand shall lead me,
And Your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, “Surely the darkness shall fall on me,”
Even the night shall be light about me;
Indeed, the darkness shall not hide from You,
But the night shines as the day;
The darkness and the light are both alike to You.
For You formed my inward parts;
You covered me in my mother’s womb.
I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Marvelous are Your works,
And that my soul knows very well.
My frame was not hidden from You,
When I was made in secret,
And skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth.
Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed.
And in Your book they all were written,
The days fashioned for me,
When as yet there were none of them.
How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God!
How great is the sum of them!
If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand;
When I awake, I am still with You.
Oh, that You would slay the wicked, O God!
Depart from me, therefore, you bloodthirsty men.
For they speak against You wickedly;
Your enemies take Your name in vain;
Do I not hate them, O Lord, who hate You?
And do I not loathe those who rise up against You?
I hate them with perfect hatred;
I count them my enemies.
Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me, and know my anxieties;
And see if there is any wicked way in me,
And lead me in the way everlasting.
One pebble. On the edge of the waves. The place I usually do not go. A reminder. God’s there for me. Even at Road’s End.
As I settle for bed, I ponder the day. I realize. Last night I was praying about keeping the Sabbath day as indicated in the Bible. I told God I wanted to consider it but didn’t want to turn it into yet another religious ritual that’s all about what I do…don’t do…think.
Today. I kept the Sabbath day. Holy. Even on the shore of the Pacific Coast. For 20 minutes I walked and talked with Him.
Thank you Abba Father, for the gift of today. For this amazing beautiful world you created. For the opportunity to spend a day doing nothing, but being. Right here. Right now. Right where you placed me.
I am truly, truly blessed.