Thanks-fullness!
Alright, so waking up to the sound of a rising tide isn't the start of a Thanksgiving memory for most of us. We were fortunate enough to be invited by our in-laws to join them this week at a beach rental house on Edisto Island, just out from Charleston, SC. Rain may blow through before the weekend's out, but the drive over last night was pleasant, and today's skies are wide open, nothing but white, wispy feathers scattered across the open blue dome.
On my second trip here, i'm still adjusting to the massive number of shells that accumulate on shore from the Atlantic. With only a single exception, my beach trips before marriage always took me to the Gulf of Mexico, not with shell-less sands, but definitely not like here. Of course, in childhood, a beach trip without swimming is a wasted trip. With highs in the 60s now, i'm pretty sure there would be some level of disappointment for me, were i here as a child.
But the glorious breeze! And that wonderful sound of the surf. And a house full of family, no schedule to keep (except meals, maybe? Well, those are still mostly flexible).
The strangest thing i've been looking forward to regarding this trip was knowing that Thanksgiving with my wife's family means a weekend without football. I've a feeling we're not in Mississippi anymore, Toto!
I don't remember so many dogs being at the beach when I was younger. Of course, with my being completely enamored with the water (and usually terrified of strange dogs-i once got so scared of being alone with a big friendly neighborhood dog that i cried myself into having a nosebleed), I probably wouldn't have been much interested.
In this environment, concern for schedules and work stresses are completely absent. This is a place for rest, for refueling. At least now, with no hurricanes nearby. There's plenty of bad news out there, plenty of needy people to pray for and to minister to, they're just not easy to see here. But refueling is for driving, not sitting. And that's good.
A few days to stroll the beach, what a glorious thing. The frightful idea Jon Piper paints of early retirement, given over to nothing but shell-hunting? Utterly terrifying. Then again, i never did come to the beach for shells. Well, unless you count the sand that USED to be shells. That's worth enjoying between the toes.
Enjoyed a run this morning out on the sand, after a bike ride around the block with my wife. Ran too far, though, really. Ugh. But it was still nice. Mmm, running. Mmm, cycling.
Ooh, and our rental house's "freebies" left by previous tenants? Included a copy of The Kite Runner. I'm already through the first couple chapters. Definitely a score, though that probably won't get done in a weekend.
Very happy to be here! Very grateful to be able to walk up and down the beach, thankful to share this time and place with my wife and her family. With or with out the beach, though, thank God for rest.
Grace and peace to all of you.
On my second trip here, i'm still adjusting to the massive number of shells that accumulate on shore from the Atlantic. With only a single exception, my beach trips before marriage always took me to the Gulf of Mexico, not with shell-less sands, but definitely not like here. Of course, in childhood, a beach trip without swimming is a wasted trip. With highs in the 60s now, i'm pretty sure there would be some level of disappointment for me, were i here as a child.
But the glorious breeze! And that wonderful sound of the surf. And a house full of family, no schedule to keep (except meals, maybe? Well, those are still mostly flexible).
The strangest thing i've been looking forward to regarding this trip was knowing that Thanksgiving with my wife's family means a weekend without football. I've a feeling we're not in Mississippi anymore, Toto!
I don't remember so many dogs being at the beach when I was younger. Of course, with my being completely enamored with the water (and usually terrified of strange dogs-i once got so scared of being alone with a big friendly neighborhood dog that i cried myself into having a nosebleed), I probably wouldn't have been much interested.
In this environment, concern for schedules and work stresses are completely absent. This is a place for rest, for refueling. At least now, with no hurricanes nearby. There's plenty of bad news out there, plenty of needy people to pray for and to minister to, they're just not easy to see here. But refueling is for driving, not sitting. And that's good.
A few days to stroll the beach, what a glorious thing. The frightful idea Jon Piper paints of early retirement, given over to nothing but shell-hunting? Utterly terrifying. Then again, i never did come to the beach for shells. Well, unless you count the sand that USED to be shells. That's worth enjoying between the toes.
Enjoyed a run this morning out on the sand, after a bike ride around the block with my wife. Ran too far, though, really. Ugh. But it was still nice. Mmm, running. Mmm, cycling.
Ooh, and our rental house's "freebies" left by previous tenants? Included a copy of The Kite Runner. I'm already through the first couple chapters. Definitely a score, though that probably won't get done in a weekend.
Very happy to be here! Very grateful to be able to walk up and down the beach, thankful to share this time and place with my wife and her family. With or with out the beach, though, thank God for rest.
Grace and peace to all of you.