Basking

There are two types of people in this world. Mountain people and beach people. Okay, there are probably some other kinds too, but it seems that most of us are more raptured by the beauty of either colossal craggy peaks, or by the endless rippling ocean, the soft and steady hush of waves on sand, the feel of a silky breeze dusting all the excess heat off your sun-warmed body...I'm obviously a beach girl.

For a list person like me, a fulfilling day is usually heralded by a long line of dashes through my list of things to do. But there are a few exceptions. 

1) Mission trips. If I play with kids and get nothing else done, its a day well spent.

2) Beaches.

It had been, oh, I don't know, maybe two years or so since last I settled in a beach chair, set my phone alarm for thirty minutes, and read in my own version of heaven.  So today I hit D.T. Fleming beach at about 10:30 and since I was by myself, figured I would probably stay, doing my thirty minute front/back rotations until 1 or 1:30.  Yeah, I stayed until 3. 

It was nourishing. Relaxing. Strangely fulfilling. I would like to say I pondered the vastness of a God who could not only create an unfathomable ocean, but then fill it with countless, wild creatures.  But I didn't. I did shout out the occasional thank you, but mostly I just basked.  Maybe tomorrow.

Thank you, Lord, for beaches, for water so pale and brilliant and for the prefect breeze, for waves that sing to pretty a song to drown out with man made music, for my kindle, and for sunscreen so I don't regret my day of rotating in the sun. All my love.

PS. Spell check just wanted me to change the word raptured to the word ruptured. Ewwww. Gross. I sincerely hope the beauty of the beach doesn't rupture anyone.