We just took our annual girls’ trip. With all of our responsibilities, we have to move mountains to get there. We moved mountains, and we made it.
We escape to a retirement community in the off season–it’s mostly a ghost town. That’s exactly what we are looking for. Most days we sleep late and don’t go to the beach until almost dusk to try to avoid the unforgiving sun. So the beach is never crowded.
On this day, there may have been four other groups of people. We put up the umbrella, sat our chairs out, and soon after getting out our magazines the huge, daunting cloud moved in. After a couple of rumbles of thunder one friend, along with almost all of the other guests, grabbed her things and headed toward shelter.
Lightening struck out on the water, and the last group left on the beach packed their things, along with my second friend, and they all headed toward safety. At that point I thought, I should head in too. I don’t want to be caught out here in a terrible storm. But another part of me said, Stay. Be still. Be here.
One other friend must have had the same voice. We talked about leaving. We considered it. Honestly, we both had reservations. But neither of us were willing to give up just yet. We sat. We talked about life, love, loss. We watched for any sunlight or break in the clouds to cling to. But for a time, there wasn’t any.
All at once, the cloud moved out over the water, and the sun returned behind it. We saw the sun. And if we could just ride out the storm, we would get our beach day back.
God never leaves us. But there is something about the majesty of sitting in front of the ocean that reminds me how big He is. It makes me feel small. It makes my struggles and stresses feel small. It forces me to remember the beauty in all things He makes. If He can speak that ocean into existence, why am I so overwhelmed, anxious, and afraid?
I looked out toward the horizon. And there He was. His promise of love.
As scary as the cloud, storm, lightening, and thunder were, it never actually rained on us. It missed us completely.
It’s so hard to know when it is time to move and when it’s time to be still. Early in my relationship with my husband everything inside of me and outside of me told me to move on. But God told me to stay. I didn’t want to. But I did. And that has been the most beautiful and rewarding experience of my entire life.
Just as importantly, is to know when to move.
In the past year I have had an urgent desire to move. Just like when that lightening struck so close to the shore. My heart and body screamed, Go! Is it fear? Anxiety? Frustration? Or is God saying, “it’s time.”
I have messed up so many things. I have been wrong more times than I care to admit. I still have trouble trying to decipher His voice from my own. But the only true way to know when to go and when to be still is to listen. Griff is my rainbow after the storm. And my reminder that God brings beauty through the darkest of days if we let Him.
So much love.
❤️ Shalom❤️