Thursday, September 16, 2010

Big Waves and Peeling Paint

Process. I need time in life to process. Life hits so fast that often I don't fully understand events and the depth to which those events have affected me. There are layers buried beneath the clean, shiny surface, like the ten plus multi-colored paint layers on Hillcrest Cottage's 87 year old woodwork.

The Summer I lived in Hawaii, we ventured to Makapu'u Beach, known for its world-class body surfing. Five minutes. That's all this Arkansas college girl lasted in the water at Makapu'u. The waves were 6 feet tall and very strong. The first wave knocked me down pounding my face into the sand. While recovering and grabbing some air, the second one was already pulling me outward. Glancing over my shoulder, I was horrified to see a wave taller than myself anxious to devour me again. For several minutes the sequence continued as I struggled to make my way back to beach towel safety.

Life can be waves hitting and pounding relentlessly one after another. I need 'towel time' to ask myself, "What just happened? How did I survive that?'

The Summer of 2010 was the hottest in recorded history. The heat for me was more than rising mercury; it was a landmark time, a piling of stones to remember. Part of the remembering is the thankfulness for how God pulled off a couple more miracles. We stubbornly believed Him for big things... and He said, "Yes." Yet...

... the 'yes' didn't come without the pulling and pounding and gasping for air.

There was struggling.

I'm glad to be on this towel. I'm glad to be thinking about a past event, no longer caught up in its emotion.

This morning I am on Hillcrest Cottage's porch with my eyes closed, listening to the gentle wind making its way through the trees. Mac the Labradoodle naps by my feet. Lucy, too young to appreciate the morning quiet has been banished to a nap inside. The hummingbirds have had their last summer feeding frenzy. They are gone to Mexico, and the feeder hangs silently. Occasionally a yellow leaf or two will float slowly to the ground. A signal of summer's last days.

The heat is gone, and I am left with the promise of the beautiful Autumn weather we Arkansans celebrate each year... complete with pumpkins, festivals, and Friday night stadium lights.

For everything there is a season and a time and purpose for everything under heaven. I know there will be more waves and heat and struggling to believe... but... for this morning... there is only the blue jay cawing, fresh air to be taken in, hope revived, and Bifferdoodle coffee in my mug.


  1. I know something about big waves ... & peeling paint ...

    ...well, and ripping out carpets ... that's what I wrote about ...

    Methinks it's time that we really & truly get together for that cup of coffee ...

    A good talk would do us both good!

  2. The thought of you on your porch with your eyes closed, just all peaceful like that - and deserving it as much as I know you do(!) - really warms my heart :)


  3. I was thinking about you this morning, I had not been to your blog in awhile and God brought you to my heart. After I read your post, I know why he took me there. You actually wrote the words in my heart.
    With the cooler weather brought a huge wave of thankfulness that I have found myself upon the shore with the realization of what I have always known, that when I need it, he will always be my life preserver, he will never let me drown. He may make me swim when I don't think I can make it, but he will give me rest and renew my spirit. I too look back at the last few years of my husband's illness and I think if someone had ask me then if I could do this, I would have said no. But God never puts more on us than we can do. This cooler weather brings breezes of renewal and I hope you find yourself refreshed as I do. Your post was meant for me to read today. Thanks for your inspiration.
    Looking forward to fall, pumpkins and all that tomorrow has to offer!

    Blessings to your and your family,