Waiting for the sun to rise while watching from the deck of our beach house.
Thick, hovering, dark abundant clouds with pale pink and yellow peeking through at the horizon. This on the heels of a moderately stormy night. The breeze picks up along with the click-clack of pool balls in the rec room below. The boys are up.
I awoke at 3:30 am after a solid stretch of sleep, pondering my key words for the week thus far . . .
"Release/Receive."
Release to the retreating ocean wave--to You, Father--my youth frolicking in the water, riding the crest with happy giggles. What was once fun is now frightening.
My body is changing. Balance and muscle tone are not what they used to be. That became abundantly clear yesterday while trying to boogie board with my grandsons. More agony than fun. And that's when I knew . . .
That it's time to laugh with the grands as I watch them have their day in the churning froth.
I feel sad, Father, as I process through this letting go.
And yet, hopeful.
Because challenge, struggle, holds such wonderful opportunity for the grace of change.
I came to the beach with Your many grace gifts on my mind, Father.
I was not anticipating that "giving up something" would be one of them.
Last year this time, the giving up was releasing my two oldest grandchildren to their aging (or better said, coming of age--growing up and moving on).
This year, it's my own aging (on the other end of life) and the incremental release of specific things . . .
Like riding the waves with husband Chuck and the grands.
But this I know--as You have given grace in the past, You give grace in the present.
For "I trust in You, O Lord . . .
You are my God.
My times are in Your hand . . ."
Psalm 31:14-15a
No gorgeous, glowing sun orb this morning, only massive cloud cover.
And yet . . .
The sun still shines. for light awakens the dawn. The ocean wave returns to the shore with grace gifts.
So, I will choose to thank You, Father. I will focus today on what I can do.
I can LOVE.
Through words, actions, writing, painting, pool time, games, food prep, listening, shell hunting, strolling, hugging, music, dancing, sharing, witnessing.
All for the joy of Jesus, I choose to release what I can no longer do and receive the grace gift of what I can still do.
I choose to age gratefully.
Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights,
who does not change like shifting shadows.
James 1:17
