slice of life – Page 12

Breakfast on the Beach: Table for Two

Day 8, Isle of Palms, SC

I stood on the shore at this Isle of Palms today with hands raised to heaven, a symbol of my desperation for Christ to come & fill me up. And I lowered my hands, palms down in confession and recognition that I have nothing to contribute to this equation. It is in these quiet moments that I have worshipped Him with abandon and the Spirit of the Living God has fallen on me.

Though most of my time on the beach has been alone with the Lord, each time I come God grants me daily divine appointments with others in need of prayer & encouragement. I offered to take photos of people walking along the beach and as we engaged in conversation, I shared with them that I am here to seek the Lord and pray. And every time I’ve asked if I may pray for them, total strangers poured out unimaginable personal struggles and tragedies before allowing me to lay a hand on their shoulder or place my hand in theirs and bow our heads together. What a precious gift! My burdens were lifted, my cares forgotten as I stood petitioning the heart of God on their behalf.

These divine encounters where I was able to pray for others make it all the more precious that today the Father sent two sweet Christian ladies to pray for me. I attended worship this morning at a dynamic, spirit-filled church in Mt. Pleasant, SC…no small coincidence that two sermons preached by two different pastors in the morning services were both on enjoying life and living to the fullest. Following the second service, worshipers were invited to come forward for prayer and I felt prompted to do so. I hadn’t planned on sharing much about my present physical condition, just an ambiguous request for strength in my body. But Maura & Mimi wanted to know specific needs to approach the throne of God with. I muttered something about two masses in my ovary and the tests that await me when I return home in a few days. As both women began to pray, the pain that I had felt for days began to subside. Maura prayed for wisdom for the physicians and for a good report. And then it was as if a light came on in Mimi’s heart. She began to share that God had just given her a vision about my reproductive organs…that “even though you will not bear children any longer through this body, God wants you to know that you will bear much fruit in Him. This present condition is an attack from the enemy to distract you from sowing in the Kingdom but it will fail. God is in control and He is going to get the glory in this…you are going to reproduce much in the family of God.” Maura began to pray again in agreement, confirming the vision… “even if you have to go through surgery or chemo or other treatment, this is not the end for you…God is going to use this situation in your body to bring glory to Himself…you are going to continue to bear much fruit for the Kingdom”. We prayed and I wept as I sensed the power of the Holy Spirit coursing through my body. It was so unexpected. All week I have set aside the pain and concerns over my medical condition in favor of hearing from the Lord regarding the deeper needs of my soul. How precious that on this last full day here, the Lord let me know He has not forgotten the burden that first accompanied me to Breakfast on the Beach.

Isle of Palms & 51^st became my place of commitment to cease striving…not just about the health issue but other things as well, most notably the longings of my heart to find the man of God that I can share my life with and serve in the Kingdom beside. I have long ago come to embrace Christ as my husband and I know that I am complete in Him. Still He knows the ache in my heart to share all this love with a man who is truly following the way of the Cross. There have been opportunities for me to marry but each time I walked away because they were not God’s man for me. Today I reaffirmed aloud, “I will wait, I will wait…for YOUR man God…I will wait” and once again I declared my trust in Him to order my life according to His purposes.

Walking back up the beach I noticed several almost identical shells of various sizes. As I picked up one after another, I discovered that they fit one inside the next as if they had been crafted to go together. I pictured God holding my future mate, holding me, holding our children. One shell after another slid into place as the Lord seemed to be acknowledging my longings and confirming in my heart that one day He will make it all fit together…

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere…the Lord is a battlement and a shield; grace and honor are his to give. The Lord will hold back no good thing from those who walk uprightly. Oh Lord of hosts, happy is the man who trusts in thee.” Psalm 84:10-12

Breakfast on the Beach: A Smorgasbord of Culture & Beauty

Day 6, Sullivan Island & Charleston, SC

As my time here on the east coast and this adventure labeled “Breakfast on the Beach” comes to an end, I pray these meetings with Jesus will extend far beyond my return to the “real world”. A friend recently wrote to me, “Quiet time is quiet time. Retreat to…be alone with the Lord is something far different.” Hurriedness of life often hijacks time alone with the Lord…I’ve written about this before, recently even. Quiet times are often rushed spiritual minimalism. Full-fledged retreat is considered a luxury. Yet Jesus set the example, often withdrawing to be alone with the Father. Jesus never once forgot that His only source of life was in the still quiet places with His Father, and not even His closest friends or family could go there with Him.

Each day here my “outer man” listened to ocean melodies as my “inner man” attended to God’s voice. And faithfully, each day He poured into me from His Word. Though I looked forward to this trip as heart preparation for significant medical uncertainties awaiting me back home, God used this opportunity to refocus my soul on my spiritual well being rather than physical healing. The result, an affirming time of respite and renewal basking in the Son.

Perched on a small, sandy patch of Sullivan Island early this morning I watched mesmerized as dolphins played and cavorted upon waves. Daring proximity to shore, they seemed aware of an audience and were happy to entertain. What delight to observe them and be reminded of our Creator’s sense of playfulness and appreciation for fun. In an otherwise intense week, God blessed these moments with levity and elation.

Exploring Charleston consumed the remainder of this day. My senses embraced meandering in and out of art galleries, markets and meeting houses, wading barefoot in fountains, strolling through lush parks replete with colorful flowers, and charming East Battery row houses. Charleston residents proved remarkably friendly compared to many other places I visited on the east coast. Eager to chat and offer advice on sites not-to-be-missed. Savory food flavors. Sunshine even more delicious. The Southern Belle in me emerged as I no longer fought a drawl I learned to conceal so many years ago. I’m reveling in sights & sounds & smells of Charleston and not unlike my moments alone on the beach, I am feeling particularly close to the Lord in this place…interestingly, called the “Holy City”.

Breakfast on the Beach: In Need of Direction

Breakfast on the Beach, Day 1 Beaufort, SC & beyond

Let the journey begin…though originally destined for Savannah {or so I thought}, my plane landed in Charleston, SC. I navigated my way through a small baggage claim area, conquered a car rental counter, then pointed my sporty vehicle south to Georgia.

A map would have been helpful…or blinders. I was delusional in thinking I could traverse Charleston to Savannah without getting distracted. The Colorado blizzard I abandoned quickly faded to a bad memory as bright colors and Southern sunshine greeted me. Green screamed at me…trees, shrubs, lawns all reminded me that it really IS spring! Spanish moss danced on every tree. Azalea bushes the size of my old Russian boxcar turned my head at the speed of whiplash. Charming communities in abundance dotted landscapes and avenues teemed with locals soaking up warm rays. In stepping out of my cave…a 50-seater Regional Jet… I’d emerged from lengthy hibernation. With senses overloaded and I persuaded myself to slow down and soak in the beauty. I am embarrassed to admit that I cannot even journal where I’ve been so far because I have no clue…country roads and back highways led me to sunset and growing darkness. Despite my desire to wake up next to a Georgia coastline my first morning in the south, exhaustion overtook and I settled in at Beaufort, SC. Tired of driving around lost, I discovered a B & B too inviting to be missed.

I awoke this morning to the scent of freshly baked goods tantalizing my nostrils. Stepping out into the salty ocean air, I sensed something divine awaited. The weather is cooler than expected but still nothing compared to the bone chill I left behind out west. Does my countenance of elation betray me as a tourist? Probably. I strolled waterfront walkways of this sleepy town, a stupid grin across my face. Though I invited the Lord to speak, my mind’s racing stunted any ability to receive His words. Instead, I wandered aimlessly about, embraced His magnificent outdoor art gallery and found myself repeatedly exclaiming, “Nice job, God!”

Eventually, I was again discovering the joys of 2 lane roads leading me in circles. I lost count of how many times I asked kind strangers…and one very realistic looking fire station dummy with his back to me…for directions, often berating myself for not claiming a map at Charleston’s Tourist Info Center. No matter, I am on an adventure…getting lost comes with the territory. Right? Somehow I navigated to a private entrance of Fripp Island where a grazing deer greeted me, and a security guard questioned me before grinning and allowing passage for a brief detour. Though I felt mostly like an adult poster child for A.D.D., in my saner moments I began to purpose in my mind to return to the highway in order to arrive at Tybee Island tonight. And so I have…don’t ask me how…I couldn’t tell you. All I know is through a weathered, open door of my balcony at this quaint Victorian Inn, I hear the faint lull of ocean waves. Tomorrow morning when I awaken I plan to follow the sound until I squish wet sand between my toes.