Waist Deep
Every beach trip seems to leave me with something.
Sometimes it’s a shell.
Sometimes it’s a story.
Sometimes it’s a reminder.
Lately, it’s been perspective.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve noticed something changing.
I think more.
I think about my family.
I think about my parents getting older.
I think about my kids growing up faster than I ever imagined.
I think about my wife and the life we’ve built together.
Most people head to the beach to get away from life.
I find myself going there to better understand it.
On our last full day at the beach this year, the Gulf was calm.
Mallory was relaxing on the beach.
Jace was spending time with a friend.
Raylee had made a friend of her own.
Everyone was happy.
So I did what I always seem to do.
I started walking.
Farther.
Farther.
Until I was more than a hundred feet from shore.
The water was only about waist deep.
There wasn’t another person around me.
Just quiet water stretching to the horizon.
Mallory later showed me a picture she took from the beach.
From that distance, the only reason you could tell it was me was because the gray in my beard caught the sunlight.
Standing there, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular.
I found myself talking to God.
Talking to myself.
Looking for shells.
Thinking.
Crying.
Breathing.
Just… being.
Every trip lately, one thought always finds me.
“What will life look like the next time we’re here?”
This year, the answer felt different.
It hit me that our family is changing.
Jace is getting older.
The years of all four of us taking every beach trip together won’t last forever.
Before long, life will look different.
One day it’ll just be me and Mallory again, walking these same beaches.
For the first time, that future didn’t make me sad.
It made me grateful.
Grateful that we’ve had these years.
Grateful that we’ve made these memories.
Grateful that, God willing, we’re one year closer to the season of life where maybe we’ll spend even more time by the water.
The Gulf has a way of reminding me that life never stands still.
The tides keep coming.
The seasons keep changing.
And maybe that’s okay.
Because every season has something to teach us…
…if we’re willing to stand still long enough to listen.