November 23, 2019
Have you ever felt completely overwhelmed by God’s grace? Imagine for a moment your are in that place that brings you the most peace. Your heart is so full of His presence it aches. Your mind fills with memories that spill softly out of your eyes. Each recollection rolling down your face also contains a reminder of how incredibly blessed you are to be in this place at this moment.
This is what the ocean does for me. Whether in its depths six miles offshore or at its sandy edge. The resounding sound of rolling tides or waves crashing onto shoreline. Salty solitude for marine life and humans. These waters bring joy to those who find comfort in its mere existence and death when not given its due respect.
I don’t know why the Lord has allowed us to experience these extremes in this amazing place but I’m humbly receptive of the healing, growing, and lessons received here.
November 22, 2019
The ocean beckons and we must go. Salty air, rolling waves and sandy beach camping; it’s what’s next on the “must do” list while we are home.
We returned to Mathis just before noon on Monday and stayed long enough to hook up the boat and head to Port Aransas. We were excited to have Vidal’s brother joining us for the evening and following day. Not wanting to waste the small window of daylight remaining, we launched the boat in short order. Fishing luck was scant; however, the sunset viewed from offshore was stunning. I want to bottle this moment. The essence of God’s enormity and my smallness. It’s pure bliss. We’ve never been on the water after dark here so we returned to the bay to explore a bit. We relied on landmarks and “trusted our instruments” as we navigated the waterway. As if the setting sun wasn’t special enough, we were treated to a brilliant star filled sky.
It’s difficult to judge what mood the sea will present us with on any given day as we plan these trips well ahead of ten-day forecasts. We’ve faced mildly choppy days, angry waves that turned us back before even leaving the confines of the jetty, and every now and then the perfect gently rolling waters that promise a great day of fishing.
Tuesday morning fog greeted the day then cleared to reveal the tell tale glass like shimmer in the jetty. Vidal and his brother were excitedly hopeful and rewarded greatly. It wasn’t solely about the successful catch. Fishing is what my father-in-law loved to do and instilled that passion in his sons and grandsons. Time on the water was spent sharing angling knowledge, telling stories, sharing jokes, learning life lessons, and making moments count. The memories made on these open waters with my father-in-law sooth our aching hearts.
Wednesday and Thursday were a reflection of life. The ocean was not in a good mood. Three to five- foot swells kept us within a mile from shore and reminded us of the importance of recognizing our limitations and humbly knowing when to say “when”. We returned to the safety and calm of the bay and Dora the Explorer was not about to lose an opportunity to find the good in the day. Playful dolphins, graceful birds, and curious turtles called to mind the beauty around us.
I’m not sure how long we’ll stay as the hope for calmer winds is unfailing. If all else fails, we’ll visit the museum and drive around to marvel at the resiliency and rebuilding of this community after the devastation Hurricane Harvey unleashed two years ago.
Storms will inevitably wash through our lives and toss us about. However, we have an anchor that will not allow us to drift into despair; hold onto Him.
This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. Hebrews 6:19 Be blessed y’all!
The greatest gift we create, nurture, and pass down is our family’s legacy. The value of hard work, faithful service, loyalty to family, honor of one’s words and actions, handed down from the past to be carried into the future.
Those lessons were most acutely imparted and absorbed on the salty waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Countless trips filled with uncontrollable laughter at Grandpa’s stories, admonishment for not “thinking ahead not behind”, elation hearing the buzz of the line, disappointment at those that got away, sea sickness, taquitos packed by Grandma, bragging rights, rough seas, calm waves, the rhythmic blast of the oil rig, all of it burned in our hearts and minds.
And all it takes to make it all come flooding back is the scent of briny air filling our lungs, gritty feet, and the soothing sounds of waves washing ashore.
A legacy began in 1935, extended in 1962, and carries on since 1990. May it be upheld with honor and grace.
I’m not certain what I’ve enjoyed more about Sand Fest, the four-mile round trip trek along the beach from our site to the venue or the incredible talent of these artists. Each step along the shoreline leaves an imprint in the sand. It may remain for a moment before salty waves wash it away or it may remain as a reminder that others have traversed this way also. The sizes, shapes and even variety (human, canine, avian)vary greatly. We’ve all come to this shoreline for different reasons. Each time I sink my feet into sand, listen to the waves coming ashore, feel the breeze on my face, and smell the salty air I am filled with an incredible sense of gratitude and Christ’s presence. This happens overwhelmingly here, on the boat, and in my garden. It’s among these elements that my deepest hurts, concerns, joys, dreams, and prayers melt into unspeakable praise. Yet, this same sand and water is used by gifted people to create incredible art. Speaking to them it is evident they derive great joy, sense of accomplishment, and fulfillment from their creations. They love sharing their knowledge and stories which have inspired their creations. Two elements, countless experiences, one Author of creation. Be blessed y’all
A visit home to south Texas invariably includes a stay in Port Aransas. Our toes in the sand, boat in the water, and if luck’s on our side, fish on the line. I wasn’t feeling well when we launched this morning but I’m not about to be left behind either. Wind provided a nice breeze but not enough to cause whitecaps. Sun was brilliant, hence McOllie fashioned a bimini cover for me so his fishing might go uninterrupted. About an hour passed and with no bites, Vidal decided to untie from the rig and drift. It didn’t take long for him to hear the familiar buzz indicating “something’s on the line.” With a big grin he turned to me and said, “This is going to be fun.”
Little did we know he would not only have to play tug-of-war with this opponent, he would also have to chase him. Note to self and other spouses, learning to pilot the boat in an extreme situation is stressful. Didn’t I realize that if this catch was lost because of my newly acquired skills it would not be forgotten? Seriously? It was kinda comical (afterwards) to witness his intensity. He even had me texting our son the play by play with photos for full effect. It was within that hour-long struggle that he took a deep breath and said, “I wish my dad was here to enjoy this also.” Oh, I truly believe my father-in-law was in that captain’s chair with a giant grin of his own. From grandfather, to son, to grandson – the saltwater life will always connect them. Be blessed y’all
I’m still waiting on my pearl! My tone clearly indicating the irritation I was feeling by the end of our week on the beach. This is not supposed to happen when your spending time in one of your treasured adventure locations, and yet, it did. As defined, natural pearls form when an irritant – usually a parasite and not the proverbial grain of sand – works its way into an oyster, mussel, or clam. As a defense mechanism, a fluid is used to coat the irritant. Layer upon layer of this coating, called ‘nacre’, is deposited until a lustrous pearl is formed.
Those irritants may have not been grains of sand but they were just as small and potentially destructive as a parasite.
When we travel, just as when we trailer the boat and/or Jeep, Vidal and I have a system. There are certain tasks he is in charge of and there are others assigned to me. When we complete those jobs we cross check each other’s work to ensure it has been completed correctly and most importantly, for safety. Our first order of business before heading to the beach for a week was to clean out (dump) the grey and black tanks of the moterhome. Just as I’ve done countless times before, I go to open the bay door to retrieve the sewer hose. I lean a little to far to the right and the searing singe on my calf let me know the muffler is still in the same spot it’s always been. Irritant #1 and we haven’t even left the Mathis area. š¦
The others sneak in deceivingly, quietly. The truck which we are using to tow the boat not having A/C, not a big deal. Until you’re having to drive down the highway in a rainstorm with all the windows rolled up and humid vent air as your only relief. Or not knowing exactly where we’re staying because my free-spirited husband hasn’t made a decision yet. The over planner, itinerary follower, need some semblance of order in me is experiencing huge sums of agony. Okay, maybe not that dramatic, but still! Then follows three days of having to quench the spirit of one who wants to deep sea fish but Mother Nature has other lessons in mind. Storms keep us bayside, exploring canals and intracostal waterways. Fourth day in and we decide it’s time to boondock on the beach. One of our favorite things to do. Once again, I begin my round of assigned tasks and something just doesn’t feel right while extending the slide outs. I try a second time but it’s evident these sounds and visual clues are not normal. I ask Vidal for confirmation and indeed we have a problem. A bolt on the slide out frame has sheared off. He confidently states it’s an easy fix. I’m silently grateful he has the gift to assess, find a solution, and repair so many diverse issues. This is true to form for him. His dad’s wisdom and guidance is evident once again. Our final full day arrives with much anticipation as the weather is supposed to be ideal for open water exploring and fishing. Typically we go out five or six miles and tie onto oil rigs. Not as easy as it sounds when you’re trying to throw a lasso around a four-inch pipe while waves are bouncing you around threatening to crash the boat into its side. After three unsuccessful tries I’m pretty certain Vidal was missing our son, Elias who normally and quite skillfully takes on this task. To be honest, I’m pretty certain he was missing Elias at time of launching. š My fourth attempt was a winner. Vidal assured me the other end was secure to the bow and instructed me to steadily release the slack in the rope. I did and as we drifted away from the rig the end of the rope appeared in my hand and out of the boat. I turned, with sqinting eyes, and stated, “Tied to the bow, huh?” I received the same irritated look with a, “Well, if it hadn’t taken you four attempts to snag the pole this wouldn’t have happened.” š¬
He hands me the gaff and we make another round, our fifth! I snag the rope, haul it back into the boat, and somehow in releasing the slack and trying to hand it to Vidal my hand gets caught in a knot and bends my pinky backward. I fall back into my seat, begin checking on my hand, and as the pain sets in, I shut down; my immediate response when I’m scared, hurt, or frustrated. In the meantime, Vidal has now secured the rope and brings me some ice. He asks if I’m okay, I give no response. He asks if I’m going to cry, I offer no response. He then states we’ll just call it a day.
I looked up at him, find my voice, and reply, “We are six miles off shore, it took four attempts to tie us off, my pinky is rope burned and purple, you better grab all four of your fishing lines and start fishing!” Not even two minutes later he was getting bites on his line. Six hours later without any keepers we decide to call it a day. He didn’t catch supper but we had enormous turtles putting on a show and enjoyed being in that place where Vidal feels closest to his dad.
And that pearl? I found it after much reflection. We are a team. We have to rely on one another for the tasks that must be undertaken when we travel and experience our life adventures. We have to work through the irritants and not allow their parasitic tendencies to cloud our love, trust and dependancy on one another. God’s design for making pearls is perfect. When we cover our irritants with mutual love and respect a beautiful creation is made. Be blessed y’all!
Lessons Learned When... 