I originally intended to keep the unedited journal concept going, but after this evening’s adventure, I elected to simply provide the highlights rather send my readers down the rabbit trail of my internal dialogues with God.

Day 2

I had the bright idea to walk to the pier in the opposite direction from the one I visited on day 1. It looked to be a WHOLE lot closer. Although the walk took several hours (to and from), my pace was turtle-like in that I stopped often to admire seashells and sea rocks.

By the time I got to the pier, I was already exhausted. The man in the shop said it cost $5 to enter or free with any $10 purchase. I bought a Gatorade and sea turtle necklace to remind me of this trip – to slow down.

I sat as close to the end as I could get and ended up making short-term friendships with some fishermen and very eager pelicans. As I sat there taking everything in, I thought back to my long jaunt to get to the pier and realized, once again, God’s lesson for me was about slowing down.

My favorite shells are old oyster shells. I love how they look like crusty old rocks on the outside, but how they can sparkle like jewels on the inside. During my walk, I found two that were quite remarkable. Like my drive to Galveston, had I been in too much of a hurry, I would have missed out on the beauty all around me.

Now, sitting on the pier, I got to experience a part of nature I have never experienced before – an up close and personal encounter with pelicans.

The walk back was much less adventurous. Even though my pace remained slow and focused, I felt my energy draining and my longing for home (the condo) intensifying. I wanted food and a shower.

Even in my fatigue, God spoke – this is why rest is so important for you. You are no good for your patients when you fail to properly rest. You get enough sleep, but not enough rest.

I get it.

The rest of the evening, I rested.

Day 3

I felt tired, kind of like I do on day 4 of my Gethsemane trips. When I used to go on retreats at the Abbey of Gethsemane in Kentucky, it usually took about three days to detox from the world (my description for getting used to no cell phone, computer, television – no WIFI at the monastery). On the third day, I had a phenomenal encounter with God. On the fourth day, I was drained and spent the day reading and sleeping.

During my morning walk to the beach – I elected to return to the closer pier and sit on the rocks again, only facing the opposite direction – I contemplated why it took me three days in Gethsemane and only three hours in Galveston to hear so clearly a word from God.

The answer was simple: I needed it more. I was desperate this trip and I knew it. Back then, all was right with the world. I felt no urgency, only hope and expectation. It took that long to detox from my media addictions because I didn’t have the same hunger I had going into this week.

Makes sense.

As I sat on those rocks, listening to the sound of the ocean and watching the birds feed, I felt such a profound sense of peace. God gave me the formula for bringing this peace home with me:

Do at home what I’ve been doing here – stay disconnected until my day is done. Stop checking my phone first thing. Stop watching an episode of MASH before going to work. Start getting up earlier and do what you used to do: exercise your body, mind, and spirit.

Ease into the day.

Easy lesson, but one I needed.

During the afternoon, I took a nap then watched the Casting Crowns movie, Home By Sunday. They are my favorite band, and I was not able to see the movie the night it was in the theater because I had to work.

I love this band mostly because their songs remind me of my own writing style – and they are very open and honest about their own flaws and vulnerabilities. Anyway, the lead singer made a statement about what differentiates their music from others: it starts from a place of darkness, but always ends with Jesus.

YES!

That explains my writing style . . . but I think, for far too long, since the pandemic, I have forgotten the last part. I have stayed in the dark for too long. It’s time to restore hope . . . to end with Jesus.

After the movie, I decided to go for another walk. I could tell from my balcony that the waves were getting more violent. A storm must be brewing . . . we have been told to expect more rain and colder temperatures tomorrow . . . my birthday . . . which may dampen my plans.

Anyway, I found another place to sit so I could get as close to the maddening waves without getting wet . . . or hurt.

It was phenomenal watching the force of those waves. The stronger they got, the more at peace I felt. I contemplated how it all works . . . the science that makes the ocean’s waves respond the way they do . . . how can anyone know even a fraction and not believe in God? Who can truly believe this just happened?

As these thoughts filled my mind, I happened to look down, and carved in the rock right next to my right foot was a cross. Of course, I smiled. He is here . . . right beside me . . . and all around me.

I sat, soaking up the sea and the peace, contemplating everything . . . a longing to write again. Then, He spoke again, giving me insight on more ways to reduce my stress and anxiety back home.

I started this blog because I felt like I had to . . . something inside of me driven to share my story . . . my kind of ministry to help others in a unique way.

Soon, though, I bought into the online world’s advice about what I needed to do to build a readership. That took all the fun and passion out of it for me.

When Bailey died, I stopped caring about how often and when I put out content. Instead, I decided to let my mood and my voice guide my words. But I kept on trying to push my message out there any way I knew how without spending money. Now, even that feels like too much.

So, I still feel like I have a voice, something to say, but God gave me permission to stop trying so hard. I can trust that if someone needs to hear it, they will find it. God doesn’t need me for that.

I think that, overall, for most things in life, the line from my second favorite movie is hogwash (build it and they will come), but in this case, I will let it stand.

It feels freeing to just simply write again and to leave whatever will or will not happen with my words once I hit the publish button to God.

So, this will be the last post I “advertise” on my social media accounts. I took a break from Facebook during the pandemic and that was one of the best things I did for my mental health. Now it’s time to take a break from my other social media accounts.

Therefore, if you, dear reader, are interested in reading future posts, I encourage you to subscribe to receive updates.

. . . PS . . . stay tuned for tomorrow’s birthday blog. If the weather cooperates, I should have some exciting stories to share. If it doesn’t . . . well . . . we shall see!