Seaside Thoughts

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It's out last full day at the beach. I am sunburned, sand burned, wind burned...in other words, red all over. Putting on sunscreen is not a hobby of mine, but apparently it will be at the beach in the future. My neck is stiff from fighting the rough waves. I am quite full and fat-feeling. My hair is a tousled, matted mess. I'm losing sleep staying up reading good books. I'm scraped up from landing on the slanted shore full of shells. Almost as many shells as the time after hurricane Isabella...the time I was in Mrs. H--'s writing class and people asked what had happened to my scabbed chin.

In some ways, I miss that class, and regret dropping out. But at the same time, I remember the seeming misery it was. Too much structure. When things got creative...even then it wasn't good enough. I was Anne and she was Rachel Lynde, or worse. No imagination.

Despite all the beach-ish pain, I feel perfectly content. This is the way it's meant to be. This is the beach.

We can't quite figure out what is going on in one of the units. There are yellow smiley-face balloons tied everywhere on the deck of this group of units, with signs pointing to "Rehab Party" in the unit decorated with several smiley face balloons and blinking orange Christmas lights. Rehab party?? We are a little concerned as to what that is supposed to mean. So far, the people seem pretty sane. They haven't even been loud or obnoxious, so it must be safe. Still...

Mom found this incredibly amazing website: http://www.amblesideonline.org ...books!! Charlotte Mason curriculum book suggestions for K-12. Everything I've worried about, I shan't any longer. I know what books to look for now for my own kids, to have in my own library for their freestyle educational benefit. I am so excited, I've nearly abandoned my beach reading in pursuit of making a carry-with-me-all-the-time shopping list. I'll arrange it by subject, then author, once I am done.

I've been thinking about life, money, dreams, etc. I guess I do that a lot. But, really, I haven't given that much thought to what I am going to do come January. But all of a sudden I've started to worry. Again. Here I go with the worry again. Not excessive. Not overwhelming. Just making me want to make plans again. Thinking about things like interior design and personal training.

But why do I need to do this? What about writing? Isn't that what this November's trip is all about, isn't it?

God has a dream for me. What is it? In some ways, I know what it is. Perhaps the best option is to trust him in the uncertainty of having a book or books published. Haven't I said a million times that God wants me to go with my original passion - writing? Yes. That, and to stop trying to find easier ways, more certain ways, to "do something with my life." If he wants me to write for a living, he will bless me when I pursue this. And if it's not, or writing and motherhood are not the only paths he wishes me to pursue, he will show me. I won't be sitting here guessing. Yet, I still get emotional...

Low tide. My tears blur at the horizon. A giant wave is coming. Closer, closer, closer...I blink. It's gone. I taste droplets from the ocean as they slide down my cheek. So...in a way, the ocean and I are one. Waves are moody. Some days slow and calm; others, fast, churning, towering. Beyond the horizon is a world to explore - a world I shall surely never see. The clouds, like always, stand tall like the distant castles of Great Britain. But I keep crashing in and sucking out, never venturing past what I know; beyond myself and my own territory.

The ocean and I are cowards in life. And, in being cowards, we destroy what is beautiful among us. Yet people are still drawn to us - still love us. Somehow it doesn't matter what we do to them: they stand by our side and will attest their love for us every breathing day. And, in the end, we love them for it and want to give them what they gave us back, though maybe in a different form.

The ocean and I know our depths. Know what we can and can't do. But sometimes we just do our own thing, when we should be doing things that benefit others.

The ocean and I are conflicted, confused. God gives us a path in life to follow. Yet, sometimes, we stray against his will. In the end, though, he works it out for good. And we strive harder to hear. But we oftentimes we can't, because we are rarely still.

The ocean and I are kin. No wonder I love it so much. We always love what we see ourselves in, in one way, or another. Even if it's our unabashed, selfish, awful selves...somehow we become endeared to whatever it is. We can't help narcissism. I think, in small amounts, it is a God thing. Adam was meant to be attracted to another human, and not a monkey.

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I wrote that earlier today on the beach in my journal. Why is it so hard to admit to flaws? Is it because our pride causes us to look down on other people with those flaws? That is the other side of the equation - we see a flaw we have in another person. But sometimes it takes on a slightly different form, and we detest that flaw. But, really, are we only hating someone else to avoid hating ourselves?

I'll just go ahead and admit this now, because I feel the need to: I'm a selfish, vain, idiotic person, among other things. I have a million character flaws I can't even count on all my fingers and toes. I'm not going to lie. I am not perfect. I'm sure you already knew that, because nobody is perfect. And I'm not being down on myself. Just honest. The bright side - I'm striving every day to be better. To listen to God's voice. To be a servant in my home. To be a blessing with whomever I come in contact with.

Almost all the time I am insanely jealous of people who do this naturally. Who don't have to think consciously about being good - it just comes to them. Why is that? How can I acquire that nature? Will I ever acquire it, or will I always have to think about being good? Will it never come naturally?

There's only one way to find out.

~Jessica