This might sound silly, but I've always felt closest to God when I'm at the beach. I've been that way ever since I was a little girl and when we would take family trips to the coast every summer. It was as if I could reach out and touch the horizon and He was right there within my grasp. As I got older, I would take my Bible out to the balcony of whatever hotel we stayed at and read and pray. I would watch the sun rise and listen to the waves and feel the sea breeze in my hair and it felt as though God was right there - embracing me, surrounding me. It's always been "the" place for me. And not just for enjoyment, but for rejuvination and rest.
On the car ride home from church yesterday, I began to cry for maybe the umpteenth time that weekend. My heart was aching and I had a lot on my mind and I blurted out to Todd how my soul was needing the beach. I wished we could go, even if just for a little while. And I tried to talk myself out of what I was needing. Because how silly to need to run to the coast for a few hours just so I could get this invisible God-hug. I told him I thought it was a dumb idea anyway and I went silent.
We got home and I crawled into bed for our usual Sunday afternoon nap. Todd came in a few minutes later and told me to get ready. His parents were coming over to stay with the boys and he was going to drive me to the beach for the day. He knew it was what I was needing. Before I knew it, we were on the road with our Icee's and beach towels, heading south.
The second I could see the Cos-Way, I quickened with excitement and anticipation knowing that the waves and the water and sand were within reach. As a little girl, that was the sight I always waited for. I knew we were getting close whenever the giant bridge came in to view.
And that's exactly what I did yesterday. I ran to Him.