With coffee in hand, I’m seated on the second-floor front deck of the home my family has rented for our annual week together at Edisto Beach. It’s 9:15am and below me the day is beginning as it has the previous four mornings.
A black SUV pulls into the lone handicap parking space provided in Beach Access #20; the driver exits to extricate two specially made wide-bottomed walking poles from the second seat while his wife hastily makes her way to his side; the backpacks they don are complete with collapsible chairs and various sundries necessary for the morning’s activities; hand-in-hand, they make their way through a breech in the dunes, turning left to claim their special spot on the strand; both wear hats and long sleeve shirts – they’ve not come to swim or tan . . . they’ll spend the coming precious hours as they so often have: sitting beside each other, conversing without talking, dancing without touching, pondering their lives together to the rhythm of the waves.
At noon they’ll exit the scene, leaving only six tracks in the sand to mark their having been present. Their devotion to each other hints of a deeper faith in God’s Word and a shared anticipation of the fulfillment of Isaiah 40:31- “Then they’ll soar on wings like eagles; they’ll run and not grow weary; they’ll walk and not grow tired.” May it be so, Lord; may it be so!
