After much discussion and surfing the web, our grandchildren convinced us that we MUST select a beach vacation for our family this summer. If you know me, the grandsons get what they want – always.
Through hours, days, and weeks I looked at all condos on Orange Beach. The location with soothing ocean waves and white, pristine sand. Finally, the perfect condo was booked and the planning began.
With the condo being right on the beach I envisioned myself spending seven days splashing in the ocean with the family. I even forced my self to try on new swim suits and purchased three new ones! Having lived in Corpus Christi for a little over a year, the voice in the back of my head kept trying to remind me of how fickle the ocean can be. Not on this vacation – not on the week my grandsons come to town. The cars were bursting at the seams with boogie boards, golf clubs, ice chests, and beach towels. This week would be one to put into my memory file forever.
We arrived at Silver Beach condo after a 12-hour drive divided in two days. The condo was roomy, with a wonderful pool and perfect beach access. Of course we immediately checked out the ocean and it was just as we’d dreamed. The sand was pristine white and the waves beckoned the boys to grab their boogie boards and join in. Their laughter made the cramped drive worth every mile!
The next morning everyone woke up ready to spend the day with Mother Nature. After gathering up ice chests, towels, and sun screen we headed to the beach.
The night before we experienced a thunderstorm and for those of you who have witnessed what the beach and ocean can look like once it has been stirred,
you already have a visual. Hours before our beach was a touch of heaven – that morning it looked like spinach had thrown up all over the sand. Being positive the boys inched in and gave it a try. They were covered in green, slimy, seaweed – and the smell was awful. To the pool we headed for the rest of the day. There’s always tomorrow.
Tomorrow came and the piles of slime were even higher on the beaches. Fed up with this green nonsense I decided to “google” seaweed to see how long this stuff hangs around. I learned more than I ever cared to know about seaweed, but what I discovered is it’s multicellular, marine algae and it comes and goes as it pleases. Unfortunately we chose just the time that the ocean decided to share its June “grass” with its visitors. This multicellular mess would hang around all week.
On our final day of vacation I visited the spinach covered beach and sat in my rented umbrella chair for the final time. As I watched the waves come and go and churn with the green barf, I was intrigued by how forceful the expulsion of the seaweed was by the ocean. It was as if the ocean was tired of the phytoplankton and saw the opportunity to dispose of it. Just get rid of the ugly stuff.
I began to reflect on life – my life – and thought how I wish it was that easy to just rid myself of all the worries each day brings. The ocean makes it look so smooth and simple. Just go forward, throw it all away, and repeat. Why isn’t it that easy for us? Why do we continue to hold on to the things we can not control or change? I continued to watch the ocean, decided to close my eyes, and began to cast a worry each time the waves came crashing in dumping seaweed. I’ve grown up repeating the verse, “Cast all your anxiety on Him because he cares for you. Phillippians 4:6-7. I know this verse by heart, yet I do not practice the casting. For a short time I was one with the waves, letting go and letting God. Practicing the casting. What a powerful feeling it was – slowly releasing the worries to God – one by one.
I left the beach that day changed. Being reminded that I weigh myself down with doubt and worry. Even the ocean is smart enough to rid itself of what weighs down its purpose. I took pictures of the spinach throw up on the beach to be a constant reminder that God wants my worries. Just as the waves rids the ocean of the ugly stuff, God will do the same. It’s up to me to practice daily casting.
Treading Water 