One would think that a family who lives at the beach wouldn’t really need to go on a beach vacation. Because, well, isn’t that what our life is every day?

Believe it or not, there is a difference between living AT the beach and vacationing at the beach. Though we hit the sand and waves a couple times each week at home, we still have to, you know, go home afterward. Drive the ten minutes inland. Do laundry. Fix dinner. Clean bathrooms. Vacuum under the kitchen table. Pay bills. Follow through with commitments. All that normal stuff. We still have to LIVE… just near the beach.

I know. What a shocker.

Then there’s a beach vacation. The kind where your friend calls you up and says, “Hey, wanna hit up the beach house for a week? You know, the one that’s right ON the beach. The one from which you can walk out, move your feet twenty-five times and be on the sand?”

And you say, “Um…. yes. As a matter of fact.”

So you go pack up a few changes of clothes just in case you actually wear something other than your swimsuit, drive up the freeway to a different beach than your normal one, and you’re officially on the vaca.

(Forgot to mention: you must also grab all blankies, stuffed animals, bibs, bedding, and other paraphernalia necessary for your two little people to be away from home for a week, wrap up any pending business at home, figure out what days, if any, your hard working husband can get off work early to join you at said beach and THEN you can load up the truck and head up the freeway. Just sayin. Being real and all that.)

We’re at the beach this week. Did I mention that yet?

It’s a funny thing–I haven’t spent this much time at the beach in one summer since I was wearing diapers. As I said before, I’ve lived in the desert most of my life since those diaper wearing years and might grab two trips to the coast each summer. That said, I’m begging you to forgive my raving and gushing and going on and on and on and ON about the whole schebang. I’m just a little in love.

This morning I got up before it was light outside, grabbed my Bible/journal/book/devos necessities, answered a text message from my sweet guy who was doing the same thing at the same time back at home, and headed out to the patio. Truly, there isn’t much that compares to time spent with the powerful God who controls the seas while being lulled by the breaking, swirling waves of those very waters. The sun slowly made it’s ascent behind the morning mist, giving me almost two full hours before I heard little voices and pattering footsteps through the open window.

Yesterday as I sat in church with Bethany–my forever sister friend–and belted the words of In Christ Alone with a group of believers I’d never met but who clearly adore my same King. I sang… No guilt in life, no fear in death–this is the power of Christ in me… From life’s first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny… and was overwhelmed with the greatness of this God, this Savior. All that He is, all that He does. There’s no large or small with Him–He’s complete and fully in both extremes. My time with Him this morning only intensified the solidity of the emotion. Funny how God can do such a thing… take something as abstract as feeling and turn it concrete. His very being is just too much for me… words fail me. And you know it’s not often that happens. Ha.

Bethany and I are off for a run on the boardwalk as soon as the boys are done with breakfast. I’ll be packing them in the double jogger and trying not to knock over any innocent strolling folks with the big ol’ steam engine it is. I’m thinking that might ruin the whole “perfect beach trip” experience for all parties involved, wouldn’t you agree?

Of course, the old surfer dude who lives behind this house just came out and told Bethany and I we should just get some lined paper instead of having our laptops out here on the patio–that we’d enjoy the morning better. I’m guessing he thinks we’ve already pretty much committed sacrilege, so anything goes from here on out.

As long as it doesn’t include cleaning, major cooking, or bills. That WOULD be ruination itself.

So. ANYWAY. The point of this here post. Believe me, there was one when I started typing.

I’ve been pretty much talking about the beach and summerish things and vacations and blah-ti-blah-ti-blah for, oh, I dunno… three months now. So let’s talk about something else.

Tell me what YOU have done this summer–vacations and/or how you’ve typically passed these warm weather days.

Because I’m curious… what exactly do people DO when they aren’t getting sandy toes most days of the week? This desert girl has left the land of her heritage… and can’t remember. More sacrilege. I’m all about it today, aren’t I?

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