You reveal mystery in the quiet, often.
Solitude.
Hard won in certain seasons. Mere breaths of time when children are young. Random moments, captured here and there.
But out of necessity, we take them. Make time. And draw near.
You reveal mystery in the quiet, often.
Solitude.
Hard won in certain seasons. Mere breaths of time when children are young. Random moments, captured here and there.
But out of necessity, we take them. Make time. And draw near.
This week I’ve walked on the soft, white sand of Pensacola Beach and stared out at the deep blue and aqua waters of the Gulf. I’ve relaxed, breathed in the ocean breezes. Watched sandpipers race the tide.
My first memory of feeling sand between my toes was a 1964 family vacation in Bali. We loaded up our 1958 Chevrolet station wagon in Surabaya early in the morning and drove across East Java to the ferry at Ketapang, just north of Banyuwangi.