I was in a DEEP PIT by Monday morning and the school week only made it worse. I felt like I was sliding down a steep slide. A slide headed towards complete weariness and hopelessness.
By God's grace I was able to leave this beautiful mountaintop and begin a long process of healing.
Wednesday around four o'clock, I stuffed my stuff into the trunk of Steph's Ford Focus and was off, headed towards Pensacola, FL with three girls I barely knew.
The long weekend was full of
loud laughter,
dancing,
screams of delight,
sand in our our toes,
being beaten up by the waves,
tears,
TV,
reading,
eating,
and eventually brought valuable friendship.
There were moments of joy, sadness, anger, apathy, and awe.
I didn't notice Jesus in everything that weekend, I guess my eyes weren't really looking. But as we laid on the beach reading aloud Shauna Niequist's beautiful words about food, flesh, and fellowship; it was as if my heart flew open and received the LOVE of my Savior for the first time in weeks.
It was as if the waves of laughter washing over my broken pieces were slowly, very slowly bringing healing.
It was as if Jesus was catching me right in the nick of time.
It was as if God was filling my weekend with GRACE DAYS, because he knows everything. He knows when I can't stand anymore and when I am about to give up. about to crash under this long life.
Salt water is often called healing water. That may seem extreme, but in reality salt is an antibacterial agent. The salt draws out the water in cells and dehydrates the cells, causing them to die. This process on bacteria kills them. And as I laid beside the salt water waves God poured spiritual salt over my life and began to dry up the death that I have been living in for so long. It seems like a long painful process, but the beginning was beautiful. Beautiful and full of salty wind that seemed to offer me fresh life.
That day on the beach we all said that we would begin writing little chapters of our lives. And so I am. I am writing about my life. I am being a storyteller, I am being faithful in the call to REMEMBER and TELL.
Pensacola didn't offer me life, neither did the beach, but the freedom to rest in the Lord did! It was only four days, a little more than 96 hours, that was it. But those 96 hours were ones that God used to refresh me, to dry out the death in my life, and to offer me healing beside salty water.
thankful for a break beside salty water,
a breaking. a healing.
