I. LOVE. THE . BEACH. I. LOVE. THE. BEACH. I. LOVE. THE. BEACH. Did I tell you I LOVE the beach! Just sitting on the sand and looking out at the horizon where the sky and the sea touch . . . amazing. It’s such a beautiful thing God created when He created the beach.
When I was younger I used to pray the bedtime prayer that started off with “now I lay me down to sleep”. Then around fifteen or sixteen, whenever I prayed I mostly asked for things such as good grades, a summer job and what else . . . a boyfriend! Then my prayers shifted more to thanking God for the things I kept asking Him for and telling Him to please put me in certain scenarios so I could find my first boyfriend.
Then as an adult I noticed that my mind went blank whenever I spoke to God while doing certain things such as yard work. Like seriously blank. It’d be just me, my clippers, and the sun and I’d be talking to God as I’d prune the wild foliage in my backyard. Then silence. My mind would go blank. I mean seriously blank. Like not a single thought would come into the old noggin. After a while I’d realize that I was supposed to be talking to God so I’d try to focus on Him again but then silence . . . crickets once more.
I realize that the same thing happens at the beach nowadays. The scenery is so peaceful and serene and I’m like, “Yes! The Lord and I are gonna have a lovely long conversation today. I’ve got a few things on my mind to discuss with this dude.” Then crickets again. I can’t focus or talk like I want to. Blank.
So I try to regroup and refocus and tell Him what’s on my mind but no luck. My brain is like a barren ghost town. Tumbleweed city. I take a dip in the seawater. I gaze up at the clouds. I watch the birds race across the sky. I stare out at the horizon. But for some unknown reason, I can’t speak to or hear from God.
Now I feel guilty so I apologize to Him for my lack of concentration and my inability to bond with Him. Then I stop beating myself up about it. I figure that I speak to God so daggone much that He’s probably tired of me anyway so now He gets a break. Then I say to myself, nah. God NEVER tires of hearing from me but I still feel really badly.
Eventually I cut myself some slack when I realize that as I’m clipping away in the yard or enjoying the beauty of the beach . . . that’s Him. He’s in everything and He’s everywhere. We’re just having mutual quiet time is all. He’s like a psychiatrist silently waiting for His client to talk. Or like a good friend, He’s just there for support in comfortable silence where no words are needed. And with Him, all sessions are free whether I vent to Him or not.
And as I leave the beach or pack up my garden tools, I thank him for a wonderful day and a good time. And for hanging out with me in utter and complete silence.
