The wonder of an ocean.

My family loves the mountains. We're the kind of mountain people who hike the same three trails because we know none of the others have views like them, and the folks who owned Teva's and Duck Boots well before they were fashionable or cool. We are the type to stop at the same overlook for a picture one hundred times because somehow there is always something new to see, and every one of us loves breezy-fresh air, picnics by the creek, and hammocking until our butts are numb. But one week a year we trade the mountains for waves, rock for sand, and become one with the beach.

Now, we are not a family of spenders or shoppers so when we go to the beach we go to the beach. By eight o'clock we've all risen for coffee and cereal, and headed to claim our plot of sand. We lather up with sunscreen (the kind of sunscreen with zinc oxide because we are pale skinned, eyed, and haired) and then we park our moon-toned butts on the sun-blazing beach until it's time for a sandwich lunch. We eat lunch on the balcony as to hear the ocean toss and turn, then shower the salt and sand away just to sit by the window and watch the waves some more. In the evening, this family of mine thrives on PG-13 movie rentals, hot tub reads, ghost-crab hunts and home cooked Taco Tuesdays. These occasional slow days makes us feel alive again.

Naturally, beach vacations are prime for relaxation. Sure, from time to time I wish I could float out to sea and live with the mermaids instead of these sassholes, but overall our beach get-aways are filled with fun and rest, and they always give me time to write. This week is the one time of year (for better or worse) that I truly take time to sit with myself and ask hard questions and process deep thoughts. The beach is one place I never fail to create and uncover all sorts of analogies and metaphors for this life. There is something about the ocean that always captivates my soul; each strong tide draws me closer to the character of Christ. I cannot help but notice that the ocean is a grand, divine display of the majesty of God. It's as if God sculpted each wave just to reveal His handiwork to us. The ocean is a stunning reflection of our Lord's mystique. Along the shoreline, I am reminded that both noise and peace, danger and calm, grace and power can and do exist within one great being.

It boggles my mind to think so many people miss this. Every time I look at the ocean I fall into a trance of wonder. Then again, how often do I forget to stop and smell the sea breezes of daily life myself? Being intentional about noticing the glory of God is easy for a week...while on vacation...at a clear water beach. When it comes to seeking the face of Jesus in everyday life it takes more discipline, which comes from practice. I have to remind myself to ask God to reveal Himself to me everyday (or ask my phone to set a reminder that I want to ask God to reveal himself to me at 8 am) and then trust that He will until I am so in tune with His being that our hearts beat to one rhythm of life and love. And it's not so that God will love me more the more I seek Him - He has already bestowed an infinite amount of love on us. It is so I will love God more the more I know Him.

This week in Florida, the Lord is teaching me to look around. He's reminding me to see His face in the ordinary, in the mundane: the hope of glory is everywhere. Whether I am in the mountains or at the beach, dancing on a mountain high or sinking in waves of grace, come high tide or valley low, Jesus is near. He is love, is forgiveness, is justice, is grace more infinite than grains of sand, is more constant then the wind. Jesus is the person sitting next to us, the breeze that gives us peace, the wave that forces us to be brave, the joy of our favorite mountain overlook. May we know Him, find rest in Him, and notice the glory of His goodness in our lives.