I stepped out onto the beach watching the waves crash into the sand. The clouds hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the surface. It was like being enveloped. It made the world seem much smaller, even standing there on the shore of the vast Atlantic. It was almost comforting. I stepped into the water, still in my traveling clothes, and wondered just how far out I would have to walk before the ocean would silently swallow me whole. How quickly could I make it there? I knew if I could just get to the rip current it would sweep me away from the cares of this world. Lost in my own head, in the delusions of my mind, I took a step forward, the roar of the ocean silencing my fears.

I kept going, my eyes scanning the horizon. The birds dipped and dived, and I watched, suddenly in awe as creation swirled around me, unaware of my presence. I lost track of my thoughts, of my selfish longings to disappear. I turned in circles, taking in the colors, the smells, the sounds. Surely God was in this place, somewhere. If only I could find Him. Was he in the clouds? The waves? I watched as the world stopped. The waves still crashed, the sun was rapidly setting, but none of that mattered. In that moment, God was there with me. I could feel His embrace, the wind in my hair, His whisper on my ear. I blinked my eyes, expecting to wake up. I didn't.

I heard a giggle behind me, then a squeal, and I snapped back to reality. Just behind me in the shallow water, my children played, tossing sand, splashing in the water, still fully clothed. This new experience stretched their senses. I watched as they laughed, as they took in these new sensations, and marveled at the simplicity of their lives. I longed for their innocence, and lamented the hole in my own hardened adult heart.

I turned to go, sighing as I realized that the moment was over, and though God was not gone, the connection seemed severed. I knew that if I didn't go then, the urge to slip into the waves would come back. As I turned, I reached to my husband, curled into his chest and sighed. God really was here, and I didn't want to waste a moment of his time. I embraced the love coming off of my love, bent to kiss my children, and walked away from the water, a smile on my lips, and a slowly shrinking hole in my heart.
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  • I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
    This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
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    Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.