God called me to the sea...

The weather---overcast. The wind catches my shirt like a sail and its speed causes an incessant howl in my ears. I stand at the water's edge. The carpet of diminuitive shell fragments stretches for miles in either direction creating a boundry between me and the cool lapping of the surf.

I wonder if it is me or if I truly can see the subtle bend of the horizon reflecting the massive girth of the planet on which I stand. The blue-green sea is punctuated only by the foamy white caps adorning the curling waters.

I feel small, miniscule, powerless. Microscopic in the grandeur of the scene I stand in the presence of. I listen the the Earth breathe.  The gusting breeze reminds me that only a small increment in velocity could throw me to the dunes. I listen, I respect that.

I open my ears to the sounds before me, rare to me, a pleasure to me. The birds cackle and caw their songs almost appearing as laughter. They come suprising close. I like to think they long for fellowship. They long for sustenance of which I have none to offer.

Prayer is when we talk to God. Meditation is when we listen. I am all ears...

The smallness fades into a realization of a feeling of communion.

I now feel bigger...

A connection stirs in which an appreciation of a global fraternity in which I proudly am a member. All here feel the wind. All here feel the surf. Membership priveledges allow all to join in the beauty. No card necessary.

I realize I am not standing on the beach, but am part of the beach. For this moment anyhow. I enjoy my family even though I am temporarily planted in the sand here among strangers. Reminded that I do not have to be here to feel this way, I notice that it is indeed easier. The birds, the shells, the seaweed, the surf, the playing children, all friends, all family, all one, all of One.

I feel free. What is it about the vastness that allows us to feel free? Do we need the spaciousness to enjoy our own sense of self? Yet our self is not alone. We can be free in a crowd. We can be confined in solitude.

Freedom can enjoy the lack of encroaching duties and routines. Perhaps temporarily cleansing our schedules of having to look at time. Time we created to tell us where we feel we are supposed to be. Obligations. Do they distort us or connect us? This answer varies day by day.

I find me.

I find here in the deafening roar of the gusting wind, the silence I long for. I long to hear what I am supposed to hear. A message of comfort, of reassurance. Did I or do I have to come to the sea to hear the message? How far must I travel? Whom must accompany me, or whom must remain behind? The message is omnipresent. I often forget to turn my receptors on.

The me I find is the same me that is always there. The one that for some reason adds on the pounds of accumulating burdens and thoughts that adds weight to the load. I unshoulder the baggage. I drop it to the sand. Arms folded before me, eyes closed, I just breathe with the Earth. I listen. I listen good.

I don't need to always travel far to get the messages I need to hear.

"Relax a little."

"Everything will be okay."

"I am right here."

"You are loved."

I need to remember that. It doesn't hurt being by the ocean though.

I needed to hear today's sermon. I needed to feel small, big, free, and me. I needed to sit in nature's pew and be held captivated by the majesty unfurling before me. Sometimes it makes the lessons that much more indelible and enduring. I am thankful.

Today God called me to the sea...

(Sanibel Island, Florida  ~  Spring Break 2010)