along the shoreline

As I strolled along the shoreline with the Oregon sand between my toes, memories from my childhood dashed ahead of me with each footfall. Cantering along in my imaginary world of wild horses and windy seas, my childhood days spent in Bandon by the Sea were full and happy. I don't remember exactly how often we came to the ocean, but it was enough to foster and nourish a keen adoration for each of the mammoth rocks that shape the coastline and bestow upon it sheer, raw beauty. It was almost surprising to find the contours of each one so unchanged and so much how I remember them... as if I somehow expected the rocks to change as much as I have changed since then. The wind, the waves, the salt in the air... the power of the water itself, a vast reminder of how small we are; it is almost completely unaltered and unaffected by whether or not I exist. And yet, each of our tiny lives has meaning and purpose and strength alongside the splendor of the sea. 

Krista and I (and Kelton) decided to spend our birthday this year in Oregon where we lived the extremely formative years of our childhood.  We have been reminded that all these wonderful people so profoundly shaped the hearts of our youth, and helped set the trajectory and course of our lives. My heart is full. We have relived memories, filled in the gaps (of over 30 years), cried, and laughed. Each person we have seen on this trip, without exception, has lost, won, failed, succeeded, grieved, rejoiced, and we are all living in hope for what is to come. We each live more honestly in the strength that our weaknesses have helped us to understand. Life has been unkind to us all, and yet we have each found joy (and for some, even abundance) in the journey that we have been uniquely called to. How encouraging! 

I don't know what tomorrow holds, but the footprints of yesterday, of the years gone by, give me hope and ebullience.