Footprints in the Sand

I love the beach, more than the normal person. I don't know whether it's because my mom loves it, too, and therefore we spent many happy summers there growing up or if it's just something inside of me that longs to be there.

I love the tang of the salty air, the roar and power of the waves, and the heavy scent of salt and sand in the air. It's my happy place, the one place I can always find peace and calm no matter what storms are raging around me in life.

I could sit in the beach for hours, just watching the ways and feeling the wind, letting the wind and waves carry away whatever heaviness is in my heart. For those few hours, is is perfect contentment and it feels like all is right with the world. And I can truly let things go while I am there. That is hard for me to do anywhere else.

Deputy D and I came to the conclusion that we are either going to buy a beach-house when we win the lottery, or we are going to retire on the beach. I think the retirement scenario is much more likely.

Granted, he was bored out of his mind most of the weekend. But he loves me enough to let me stay as long as I want because of how happy it makes me, and give him some toys to play with next time and he will be just fine. He's not much for staring at the ocean and contemplating the beauty and power of one of God's most awesome creations.

We are going back this weekend, so Emo Marie might be a little scarce again this week. But I have a project we are going to work on at the beach and I am sure that I will find some random ramblings to post about.

There is some drama that went on this weekend that I will post about soon, but I just don't have the words right now. I have to work through it all first.

For now, I leave you with the thought that when you only see one set of footprints in the sand, it is because you have someone carrying you through the really tough times in your life.