There’s a spray of salt water, a cool breeze, as my feet kick up sand and the sun just casts its beams over a glossy sea. Dad and I run together — run on a beach bare of people. We run and talk about the Word of God and the mighty ocean and all matters of the heart — our feet gathering miles like my nine year-old cousin and I gathering shells the day before.
I remember the laughter of Vivian and Judson as we dug deep in the sand with shovels until the water crashed around our ankles. We made castles and volcanoes and tunnels that caved in a little until the kids decided tumbling down the sides was so much more fun.
I got down there with them, patted the sopping sand, and carved out the tunnels with my hand. We ran along the sea’s edge as we squealed about manta-rays as though the gentle beasts were racing us right there in the clear shallow water, just waving their pointed wings as if they were birds and so were we.
Father God, do you love those moments of child-likeness? Delightedness? Deep belly laughter filled contentedness? I think of what C.S. Lewis said about satisfaction. “We are far too easily pleased.” The real beauty isn’t just the emerald and blue bellied ocean or the sun as it throws its colors across the sky before sinking deep into the blue horizon. It’s seeing your face in it all. It’s hearing the joy of a child running barefooted and shouting “look!” and knowing you say the same when you see your children being all who you made them to be. You’ve set us free, so we can live fully as that. I don’t have the capacity to contain all the glorious revelation creation is pregnant with.. today is pregnant with. Enlarge me. Expand me like the ocean’s floor. Because what I deeply desire is you… and you are always longing to give us more.