Sunday, May 10, 2015

From the van I see the horizon-that magical blue that only exists over ocean. We crest a hill and there it is.

I have a physical and emotional response to the ocean. My pulse quickens, my breath catches. I'm overwhelmed-anxious to see it all at once, to take it in and not miss a thing, to memorize the smell and sound, and taste and feel of this mighty thing.

It wasn't always that way, but it became so i hoku motu. It still feels like home.

I remove my shoes and let my toes sink into the sand-warm and enveloping.

I walk to the water's edge. My eyes squint against the glint of gold off the blue waves.

I wade into the water, letting the waves splash me. When I throw my bag and leg over the boat side a nostalgia strong and sweet sweeps over me. I turn back and call to Mark, "Heka". We smile at each other- a smile full of shared memories. A smile tinged with sadness for all of the people and places we have loved and left.

I watch a kid raise the anchor and we are off. The wind is in my hair, the ocean is spraying my face. I lick my lips and taste a hint of salt. I breathe. I am happy. It is well- in this deep, down in my soul place, it is well.

I find myself on top of the waves. I find God there, too.

"When oceans rise, my soul will rest in your embrace". Leaning in to that, into Him.


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