Flew south to vacation with the rest of the family a week ago. We’ve gathered at our favorite beach house in Wrightsville Beach, N.C. Lobster’s lost out to shrimp, a chilly ocean replaced with warmer waters and hot tea exchanged for iced, served sweet with a wedge of fresh lemon.
Good to be back. Especially good to be with family, even with all the challenges that come with such gatherings. Must be part of why Jesus said,”Where two or three are gathered together, I’ll be there.” We need Him.
It’s close to 1:00 a.m.as I write, all are asleep except Lily and Chad, playing another round or two of Rummikub. Almost joined them, but felt I’d better post something soon, lest you think I’d joined Jud. That day will come but so far, I’m simmering in North Carolina, anchoring my end of the generational span.
Extended family and friends weave easily in and out of these slow days by the seashore. Surfboards, wet towels, flip flops, fishing gear, and a kite with tangled strings rest on the porch after a busy morning. Often after lunch, life lazies down while some swing in the hammock, slip off to a quiet spot to nap, head to a free table to play a game or find a rocking chair on the porch to read a few pages before dozing off, lulled by the sound of ocean waves and soft whirring ceiling fans. Something for everyone in a safe place for sandy feet and swimsuits, swinging from the clothes line like welcome flags of summer.
Tonight after supper, a few of the older ones were going out and Kate, the youngest set up a howl. “I don’t want to be with just the young ones. I need older people like Mama.” Luke reassured her with, “It’s ok. Momo will be with us and nobody’s older than Momo!”
No amount of anti-aging cream erases this truth, nor that it’s way past my bedtime. Soon small feet will bound down the stairs, announcing a new day, full of promise. Time to pillow my head and wrap the day in gratitude for the gift of slow time at the shore with people I’m called to Love and actually do.
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