SUN, SAND, SURF...REST

Melbourne Beach, Florida

Wow! I haven't checked in here at the blog in two whole weeks! I stepped away from writing assignments, laundry, and kitchen duty to enjoy a much-needed break from routine chores and deadlines.

I haven't had a do-what-I-want, when-I-want, at-my-own-pace, kick-back-and-relax vacation in...well, in so long that I can't remember. I figured it was time for a holiday, before stepping into the harness of a new job.

Some people are late bloomers. I am fifty-four years old. This summer, for the first time ever, I planned a vacation: booked lodging, planned transportation, budgeted for meals and gas, the whole she-bang. The entire process was an adventure - and I enjoyed every bit of it!

My youngest son is living near the east coast of Florida this summer, and my youngest daughter (the last chicken at home) has long wanted to experience a beach holiday, so a beach vacation seemed the natural choice. It. Was. Awesome. I understand why folks with the time and the money make annual visits to the coast.

I love the beach. I love the sun, the sand, the sound of the water. I love the people. I love the nothing to do but PAUSE, breathe, rest. I also love swimming. I am very buoyant even in fresh water, but in salt water...well, let me put it this way: if I were an animal, I'd be a manatee.

Sunshine, surf, and good company.

Our second day in Melbourne, we met up with a friend from nearby Orlando for some brain-stimulating conversation and a short road-trip to Vero Beach for sushi.

Sushi date - yum!

Sunday, a day of soul refreshment, worshiping with brothers and sisters at Covenant Presbyterian Church in Melbourne. In the afternoon, a stroll along the boardwalk at Turkey Creek Sanctuary in Palm Bay.

According to Ben, it rains EVERY afternoon.
Should've brought a bigger umbrella!

Monday, the youngest and I packed the car before daybreak and headed to the beach one last time, to watch the sun rise.

Sunrise over Paradise Beach. It amazes me that the God who creates this kind of enormous, powerful, heart-swelling beauty every single morning - that same God knows me and loves me and He hears and answers my prayers.

Finally, with full hearts and refreshed bodies, we turned and headed west toward home.

Today, CATCH UP! Laundry, grocery shopping, writing assignments...but work is a pleasure after such sweet rest. We are both looking forward now to our different jobs and to school. And already, we are planning our next adventure.

IN BETWEEN, TOGETHER

Life five years ago was routine, predictable: school, laundry, taxi service, church, dentist appointments, feed the cat, music lessons...

Life five years from now will no doubt be characterized by routine, too. What that routine will look like? I have no idea.

Today, however, I find myself in a season of In Between, between full-time homeschool mother of seven - and - who knows what. This is a place of shifting rhythms and irregular activity, where the demands of each day differ from those of the day before, and each month's calendar creates a unique thumbprint of life lived between lives.

I do not like In Between. I like The Known. I like familiar, routine, predictable.

My oldest son once commented that there is wisdom in planning one's family so that kids are not going through puberty at the same time Mom is going through menopause. (Amen, Little Brother!)

I will say, however, that there is something very sweet about being In Between together, me and my youngest.

We share similar struggles, frustrations and faith challenges. Although I am fully confident my youngest has a beautiful life ahead of her, I am sympathetic to her questions, doubts and fears. I know firsthand how little comfort platitudes like "Oh, don't worry...everything will work out fine!" can be. I understand that the best I can do for my daughter is listen, encourage and pray as she works through the challenges of this season her own way and at her own pace.

I do not like change, but I should not be afraid of it. While I do not know what the future holds, I do know with absolute certainty that God is sovereign, faithful, loving and good. I may not be able to answer my youngest's questions about the future, but I can share with her a confident faith in the One who does have answers to life's difficult questions.

She, in turn, gives her mother bursts of sunshine and delight as we walk this foggy path together: music, sung or played; spontaneous dance parties; spur-of-the-moment adventures; ice cream runs. Her joy for life is never long suppressed, even when life is full of uncertainty. And her joy is contagious.

In five years, my dear child, we will both be in very different places in our lives, perhaps calmer, more settled, more predictable places. But today, I am thankful we get to walk the path through In Between together.

THE BEST WAY TO PRAY...IS TO PRAY

"I wonder how many of us really think about the power and privilege of prayer," the pastor said. My prayer sisters - one of whom sat three pews behind me that Sunday morning - immediately came to mind. "B--- does!" I thought. "And S---!"

For over a year and a half now, we have met every other week to pray for one another. These small coffee-shop prayer meetings have radically impacted my faith and my day-to-day life. We have seen God answer so many prayers, often in ways we could not have imagined beforehand. God's faithfulness has encouraged us to pray more, pray bigger, pray braver.

As we have prayed for and with one another, as we have wept together, laughed together, and truly wrestled - like Jacob - with God, God has knit our hearts and lives together. He has given us the courage to be honest, vulnerable, and broken, and the freedom to be ridiculously, ecstatically joyful.

Do you struggle with prayerlessness? Do you desire to be more prayerful? Let me encourage you to find a friend and simply ask: "Will you pray with me?"

Don't wait until you get your life together. Don't wait until you feel spiritual, or like less of an emotional disaster. Don't wait for somebody else to take the initiative.

Grab a friend TODAY and pray.

Then, meet and pray again.

And again.

Keep praying, and you will be blown away by the power, mercy, and goodness of God. He LOVES to answer prayer.

You'll not only want to pray more: you'll be moved to worship.

For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them. - Matthew 18:20

GIFT

"What do you think are the most valuable things Mrs. Linda and Dr. Harriss taught you as piano teachers?" I was making conversation as we ran errands in town yesterday.

She thought a moment. "How to read music. Chords and cadences. They gave me the tools to play anything I want." She paused, then added, "And this: Mrs. Linda taught me that the music is not about me. It's a gift to be shared with others."

* * *

"I don't even know why I'm visiting this church. I am not like the people here. I don't even have anything to offer this church, no way that I can serve."

It had been a dark couple of months. On top of everything else that had been lost, she'd been asked to leave the church she loved. "It will just make everything easier," she was told. How many ways can a heart be broken?

No one at the new church knew about the hidden wounds. They just saw a quiet, withdrawn, pale young woman. They didn't know how bright and bubbly she had once been.

A middle-aged woman walked over and sat down beside her on the pew. "Hi! My name is Melodee," she smiled. "We are so glad to have you worshiping with us this morning!"

Melodee, it turned out, was the church pianist. Just the week before, Melodee and her husband had put a contract on a house several states away.

After service, Melodee ran up, her eyes glowing. Melodee took her by the hand. "Did I hear right? Do you play the piano?"

"Yes."

"Praise God!" Melodee explained that she and her husband would be moving in two months, and that they had been praying that God would provided another pianist. "Would you please pray about maybe playing the piano for church? I think you might be the answer to our prayers!"

* * *

She's been playing for worship a couple of months now. Even during practice sessions, there is a sparkle in her eyes and a smile on her face. "I LOVE helping with the music at church," she told me - yet again - as we drove home from practice last week. "I am having so much fun."

* * *

I wondered Sunday morning if anyone else noticed she had no music on the stand in front of her as she played an offertory. All she had was a melody in her head, a set of tools given to her by two wonderful teachers, and a gift she was eager to share with someone else.

The tune - "His Eye Is on the Sparrow" - an old favorite; the arrangement, entirely her own, made up in the moment, flowing from her heart, through her fingers, to the keys.

* * *

Why should I feel discouraged,

Why should the shadows come,

Why should my heart be lonely

and long for heaven and home,

When Jesus is my portion?
My constant friend is he:

His eye is on the sparrow,

and I know he watches me.

- Civilla D. Martin (1863-1948)