A World Seemingly Unknown

You make your way from the back porch onto the boardwalk. You pause momentarily as you take your first steps onto the sandy beach. Making sure you approve of the music playing in your earphones, you make your way down to where the water meets the sand. You choose this placement on the beach to run on because the salty water leaves the sand just hard enough to run on, but yet still gives your legs a harder workout than usual. Now the few runners you pass along the way are wearing their expensive running shoes, but you indeed think they are off their rocker. You know that the only way to run on the beach is completely barefoot. This way you can feel the sand between your toes and water splashing at your feet as you run down the beach and not having to take your shoes off if you suddenly decide to dive into the ocean. A couple miles go by and you reach your favorite spot on the beach. The part where there are only a few other people in sight and they are only two boys trying to catch a fish. You know this because they have been out everyday with their nets and huge rods. You pass them, trying to avoid their awkward stares as you know they think you are crazy because normal people sit on the beach and don't run on it. You get to the part of the beach where the second lake is in reaching distance of the ocean. Mountains of sand dunes scarcely covered by Sea Oats give the perfect ambiance. A flock of seagulls land some distance in front of you and when you catch up to them, they start running in front of you as if trying to race. They run to where they almost hit the water and burst into flight right as their scrawny legs hit the water. Off they go to scavenge for fish, once again leaving you alone. You start to get out of breath and look down and watch your toes dig into the sand as you force yourself to keep moving. You notice little shells getting washed up onto the shore and right as you are about to step on them, they suddenly spring into life and dig into the sand. Hundreds of little shells burst into motion as you approach them and watch as they dig their way out of yours. You reach the halfway marker in your morning run and decide to cool your legs off in the Sea. You walk into the water trying desperately to avoid the waves that grow taller as you go deeper. Out of the corner of your eye you see the top of a shell peaking it's way just above the sandbar. You grab it with your toes and discover that it is one of the biggest seashells you have ever found. You do a victory dance, of course no one is around to watch so you have no shame in doing so. You want to run fast all the way back to your back porch and parade your treasure around showing it to anyone that takes notice. But you know you have a long run ahead of you, because you ran a good distance to get this place, that is seemingly unknown to the world. You hold tight to the shell and stretch as you get ready to finish the race you are running against yourself. You start off. You pass land marks you gave yourself, but it is up one way and down the back. Only a fool could get turned around. You pass the sandy Sea Oat mountains, surrounded in crab holes. You pass the seagulls, who have given up racing you and whom seem to finally understand why God gave them wings. You pass the hundreds of little shells digging their way out of yours. You pass the boy with an IPhone shoved in his face and earphones in his ears. You pitty him because he does not know the world he is missing behind his silly little phone. You pass the old couple digging in the water for shells and smile to yourself. You smile because you want a love like that one day. You want nothing more than to bask in God's glory with your husband and dig around in the Sea for little treasures. You pass the asian family, who look oddly out of place on the beach. You accidentally splash the leathery tan women reading right next to the water. You don't know whether to apologize or not, so you meekly keep jogging along. You see the peach colored house with the sandy roof rather close and believe it to be yours. You are mistaken. You realize that is not your house, but your house's twin and you have to continue for another mile or two before you reach your house. You reach the lake in which your house sits by and you stop, gasping for air. As you breath in the humid salty air and rip your earphones out of your ears you listen to the waves and wonder. You wonder how in the world Easter Lake got within ten feet of the Gulf Of Mexico. You deiced it is the creative design of your God and walk from the water's edge to your boardwalk. As the salty sweat drips from your pores you thank your Lord for His creativity in His providence. You rinse the sand off of you toes in the side courtyard and pass the little fountain overflowing with water and vines. You conclude your run with a sweet prayer to your Daddy thanking Him for the sweet things in life. As you say Amen you turn around and face the water once again. "Until tomorrow," you salute the Sea.