Covered in goosebumps, I determine to shun the lure of my toasty car–me who despises cold. But a foggy beach day will not deter me from my walk along the waves. I gasp with the first icy lick of the sea yet power on.
Spent, I lounge on my towel, noticing few other beachgoers who brave the chill. But soon, voices waft toward me. The mother and teen girls who spread out a nearby picnic are obviously not natives. Like me, way too giddy to be locals.
Raucous squawking wrests my nose-deep attention away from my novel.
Rubbernecking, I see a gazillion seagulls ringing two of their brothers like spectators at a prizefight. The tug-o-war reward? A carton of chocolate chip cookies now stripped from their package, leaving shredded trash strewn across the sand.
How in the Sam Hill…? Oh, I bet I know…And my gaze turns toward my neighbors who abandoned the remains of their lunch to wander down the beach in oblivion.
More birds lickety-split to the blanket, scavenging for other morsels of interest. They peck at the plastic cartons, then one grabs a container and flies ten feet down the beach with it. To my amazement, he pops it open and begins to eat the hummus, all the while he screeches and flaps to deter his encroaching cohort of jealous rivals.
Knowing disaster looms, I clap my hands and yell, then drape a towel over the bevy of containers and retreat to my mat to see if out-of-sight-out-of-mind works. And just like that—the birds lose interest and move on down the beach, searching for additional easy pickings.
Last year we made the history books and not in a good way.
—Does it feel like you took a stroll, and when you returned, the world had tilted, and what you thought was safe and true lay upended and strewn like trash on a beach?
—Are you a bit afraid to get your hopes up—that you won’t have to retreat under your blanket again?
—Will you go back to pre-pandemic bizness as usual or retain some of the hermit-like habits forced upon you?
Lessons I learned in the Pandemic:
- Solitude is not always a bad thing. Everything had been louder than God and I needed quiet to hear him.
- Church is not just a place of worship and learning, but a place for leaning. And I hungered for that fellowship.
- Hugs are not gratuitous, they are necessary for well-being.
- Busyness is a badge in our society, an unhealthy lifestyle.
- Though we live in an advanced technological world, there is no guarantee the blanket can’t be ripped from under us, yet fear is not the answer.
What I choose for the future:
1. I choose daily solitude to recharge my battery with God.
2. I choose to embrace my people often.
3. After experiencing time on my hands, a feeling long forgotten—I choose to swim counter-culture and shun overloading.
4. I choose to be thankful even in a season of loss and uncertainty.
5. I accept that I have no control over life events, yet I can make positive choices for good and always remember that my God is in Control and will stand with me when (not if) the sand shifts sideways.
The Psalmists offer a plethora of verses rife with cries to the Lord in lament and complaint. Yet they most often end their prayer with a vote of trust in him and faith in his promise of steadfast love—even when circumstances are overwhelming. And in response, we can grow wiser in our lofty expectations from this world (it will let us down) and know in whom the true power rests, and that is no small thing.
Remember, we are called to walk with him one day at a time as he rights a tilted world.
So my friend, what will you choose as you emerge from a year like no other?
We thank you, God, we thank you—your Name is our favorite word;
your mighty works are all we talk about.
You say, “I’m calling this meeting to order, I’m ready to set things right.
When the earth goes topsy-turvy and nobody knows which end is up,
I nail it all down, I put everything in place again.
Psalm 75:1-4 msg