here's your sign
There were signs for me all week.
When we were getting settled into the house last Saturday evening and I was wondering if we were in the right place, I saw this...
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| it hangs on a main wall of the home we rented. God has graciously taught me the truth that this verse does not mean I will get everything I desire, rather, when I delight myself in Him, He changes the desires of my heart. |
Early in the week Kourtney pointed out a pier way down the beach. He thought I might want to take pictures from it. I told him I probably would not because it was the pier Bill and I walked to last year. As the week went on I began to think that maybe I should/could walk down to the other beach. The first time I set out rain drove me home. The second time I saw this little fellow. I did not have my phone with me so I could not take pictures. I had to make a choice. Go on walking toward PCB, with the goal of trying to rekindle old memories or quickly return (as quickly as you can walking on sand or barefoot on an asphalt shoulder) to the house and gather as many grandchildren as I could, then hurry back in hopes he would still be where I left him so I could share this with them. I chose to make new memories. I am glad I did. I think I said goodbye to PCB when Bill and I left there last Memorial Day Weekend. There was nothing at that end of the beach for me this time.
I knew that 2016 would bring new experiences. New challenges. Probably new pain. I was right. I started off the New Year with a bang. Literally. I leaned over to get a Snapple Peach tea from the same place I had retrieved one the last three days in a row and banged my head on the corner of the shelf hanging on the wall holding the DVD player. Ouch.
I looked in the mirror over the dresser and knew immediately this was more than I could take care of by myself. I stood at the door of my room and said "Beth, don't freak out, but I need help." By the time she got to me there was blood streaming down my face, through my fingers, into my eye. She and Sarah cleaned me up. I could have gone to the hospital and gotten a few stitches, but who has time for that on New Years morning at 1:30 AM in a strange town, at a strange hospital with an insurance card that took effect an hour and a half ago. Not me. Beth glued it shut for me. (With wound glue.)
I have never needed stitches in my head before.
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When the grandkids got up New Years morning I showed Cristian my injury and this shark. I told him I was shark bait, something Andrew had teased the kids about all week. He repeatedly, firmly insisted it was the fin that got me, not the teeth. I asked him if he wanted to know what really happened and he said yes, so I took him into my room, showed him the shelf and explained that I had hit my head on it. He asked me why I had tried to fool him. I told him because it makes a better story. He looked at me in the eyes and very seriously disagreed,
"No grandma, the best stories are when you tell the truth."
I was schooled by my six year old grandson.
Getting injured was well worth hearing him say that.
Laguna Beach offered other new experiences:
the Portuguese Man of War Jellyfish
finding beauty in broken shells
these two shells, though broken, somehow survived the tumbling of the waves and are still connected!
a sea slug?
a large Jellyfish
Walking alongside a flock of birds flying just off shore, diving for their dinner as a dark cloud of small fish swam by.
this fish
Watching Andrew find a whole, beautiful conch shell and hear his excited conquering warrior yell as he brought it ashore for me to hold as he continued shelling.
I didn't see dolphins like I did last May, but my girls did. At the same time I was walking toward the sea turtle and didn't have my phone, they saw three dolphins and tried to call me. I am convinced I did not need to see what I had seen before. I needed these new experiences.
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