The Beach

“There is no hurry here.”

This was the thought that hit me upside the head (in a good and gentle way) when I was sitting on the beach at Carmel. No hurry. No stressed-out people. No deadlines. Instead of hurrying, people stroll and stop and pick up treasures and giggle as the wave washes up and surprises their toes. The sand invites sitting and making patterns with fingers, and pausing to let feet delight in being free. Dogs chase, children frolic, and older humans converse and hold hands and enjoy. People use their phones for taking pictures, not for endless scrolling. Eyes see, ears hear, and the salt air wakes up the nose. The sea is always changing yet always present. Sometimes the colors are vibrant and flashy and sometimes muted and blended together. Unique and beautiful and fresh. The tides are predictable and on time; they don’t hurry either.

Peace. Being present. Breathing slowly and deeply. Aware and alert, seeing clearly for the first time in a while. All the worryish things fade and don’t seem so pressing.

And in the waves and sand and sea air, I see God.

“Just come enjoy Me,” He says. 

Before we left Minnesota, I had a list of all the things I wanted to ponder, revisit, and spend time with during my week in Carmel. I am a list girl, after all. I like my lists. But God said to me, “Can you leave your agenda at My feet? Can you just let Me lead?” Hmm. Okay. The goal of the week is to spend time with Him, and all my listy things were made while keeping that in mind. But I bravely thought, “I can let them go!”

God, in His sweet way, was giving me permission. Permission to listen. Permission to just BE. Permission to just enjoy him. Permission to NOT HAVE TO PRODUCE ANYTHING. What a thought. I didn’t have to accomplish or give account for time spent. Nothing was required of me other than to enjoy Him.

Maybe that’s why the beach was such a gift. God was at the beach with me. I saw Him and felt Him, and ever so did enjoy Him. And He enjoyed me; He told me so. What a simple and yet mind-blowing realization – that even when I wasn’t producing or accomplishing or getting it all done, He enjoyed being with me. I wasn’t letting Him or anyone else down. I wasn’t disappointing anyone.

I do so wish I could stay in that place. I tried desperately to bring the beach home with me. All my best beach photos are now displayed in my Shutterfly calendar at work. I brought sand back with me to Minnesota, and it’s in an antique dish on my desk. Yet I think what I most loved about the beach was… enjoying God and not hurrying. You don’t need sand and waves to enjoy God, although they help.

I yearn for the no-hurry feeling. Work is always hurried. Always having to produce, accomplish, get the list done. The office is more stress than calm, and most of the day is multi-tasking and trying to remember where I was and what I was doing before the 18 interruptions that happened in the last two minutes.

I miss the beach.

How do I carry the no-hurry approach into the everyday? How do I remember to breathe deeply in the mundane and busy things that seem so very unimportant in the bigger scheme of life? How do I go through a workday without spending all of my everything to the point where there is nothing left over for when I get home? How do I not let the stress and tough things of the day continue to fill my brain long after I’ve left the building? How do I not carry the workday into the night when I should be sleeping, but cannot because of my swirling, spiraling brain?

“There is no hurry here.”

God, show me how to slow down and remember. Remind me how to enjoy You here. Give me ears to listen and a heart open to receive Your peace. Give me eyes to see where You are already at work, and help my mind remember that You are all I need. And that You enjoy me too. That is just too delicious for words.

I choose to look for You, embrace the minutes with you, and appreciate the moments to breathe, even though I don’t have endless hours to sit and watch the waves now. That day may come again, but in this season, I trust You to lead me through my to-do lists and ask that you calm my rushing brain. Slow me down, settle me in, and fill all the spaces with Your presence and peace.

Thank you.