I’ve been working on writing the vision document for new ministry the past few months. While I often write to work through feelings or express things that God has been teaching me, this one has been hard for me. Writing a vision document, making a clear and bold statement about the direction God is pointing me, is equal parts scary and vulnerable. So I’ve been dragging my feet, struggling to finish fine-tuning this particular writing.
In an effort to remove as many distractions as possible, I made a last-minute decision to visit a friend who happened to be staying at Cannon Beach. One whole week to work uninterrupted, one whole week to wander the beach when I need inspiration, one whole week to focus on getting stuff done. I felt giddy when I got in the car to make the 4 hour drive to join her.
I arrived just before dusk on night #1, parked my car, left my luggage in the trunk and headed straight for the beach. I wandered up and down the sand, smiling, talking on the phone, talking to God, elated (and I don't think that's overstated) to be there. My friend joined me an hour later, sitting with me on one of the stranded driftwood pieces that had become a popular beach-bench, picking up right where we left off the last time we were together. When our feet were too cold to stay barefoot in the damp sand, we headed back to the room in the thick darkness, weaving our way past the scattered bonfires and quiet laughter. I said, “that is one of my ideals right there – bonfires on the beach.” I won't go into all the reasons here, but suffice it to say that sitting by a roaring fire is a bit of a unicorn in my life. Special, but rare.
I went for an evening beach-walk at low tide on night #2. It had been a full day of writing, my body stiff from sitting. Misty blue fog settled over the mountains behind me, the perfect backdrop for pale dune grass dancing in the salted breeze. The tide still hovered over the sand like a layer of wet glass, reflecting the pink hues from the sunset. Only the languid movement of the water marked a discernable difference between sky and land.
Overflowing with gratitude, I sang out fragments of lyrics to my favorite worship songs. I feel like God whispers in these moments, “just let go, Keri – it's okay to respond like a child.” So, I sheepishly spun around a few times, hands raised in gratitude.
Does it get much better than this? Maybe not for breathtaking beauty, but God had more in store for me on night #3.
After dinner, I packed my backpack with watercolor supplies, grabbed a blanket and headed down the familiar pathway towards the beach. About 10 minutes down the beach, Haystack Rock in sight, I hesitated. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to cross the river to explore low tide again or keep wandering the other direction. There weren’t many people on the beach because it was a bit chilly. The intermittent rain had dampened my hair and coat. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a young family near a bonfire, packing up their beach gear like they had had enough of the moody weather. Just as the dad started to dump sand on the fire, I caught his attention and volunteered to enjoy it for a while before putting it out myself. Shrugging, he set off to catch up with his family, while I tried to act casual, internally jumping up and down.
Sitting next to that fire, the water dripping on my face was definitely NOT from random rain drops. I cried, because I knew the minute I saw the fire that God had prepared it for me. He shined a light right through the middle of any loneliness I felt, offering this gift to remind me He knows me deeply. He sees the deepest places in me and delights to bring me joy. Isn’t that just like a good Father?
He was so near in that moment, sitting with me in love. The song Carried, by Isla Vista worship, played on my phone in the background.
I'd love a night under stars that You made up
To know I was someone You dreamt of
And made me to be here with You…
'Cause I'm in love
And You're so much more than enough
And just when I needed You most
You came and You carried me home
Think of it! He dreamt me up, created me with intention, purpose and care. He dreamt YOU up, created you with intention, purpose and care. He made YOU to be with Him. I’m praying as I write this, that you, reader, know Him as a good father. I’m praying you come to believe in the core of your being that His banner over you is love (Song of Solomon 2:4), and that you have eyes to see the good gifts He brings with Him to the ‘banquet table’.
