My travels are over. My running around with my head cut off during the 24-hours in between trips is over. My break, well, its almost over, but hopefully I can milk these last 12 days to feel like 20. What an insane summer for me. I usually spend a large amount of my summer sitting around at home, which isn’t bad, a little rest never hurt this busy body. But this summer, I was given a huge gift of 4 different trips, making my summer rich and beautiful and full of growth and rest. Clearly, they were gifts from God, because if you know me, you know im not a friend to travel. This home-body girl would be content staying put for months at a time. All the trips were so different. First, traveling to Saranac to work for a month. Then, to Emerald Isle, NC, with my family. Off to a wild and crazy week at Rockbridge with my YoungLife girls. Then, a beautiful exhale with a few of my closest girl friends to a seven mile island off the coast of Florida. I know I haven’t written about my family vacation or YoungLife camp, that can come later. I want to try to piece together the last 10 days while they are still fresh and vivid in my mind.
I had the privilege of going to this island last summer, too. With 14 of my closest friends that time. Girls and guys, with a 20 hour, 15-passenger van ride and a week of cloudy skies that provided much needed conversation and full life. It was great, the best way to send off my high school years. Then, came this year. My friend’s family owns a house on the island, which is why we get to keep going back. The house has one purpose: to be a house of blessing. We wanted to go back with the same group, but we felt it was better this year to take a different route. So, only 6 of my closest girlfriends flew (PTL) down this year for a 10 day adventure also known as girls week. We were blessed to be joined by two of our leaders from the youth group we were all involved in senior year fly down for our final days on the island. Their presence made the trip even richer and it was so great to have them there.
You see, this week was just so necessary. Each one of us had gone different ways this year. We colored the map of Virginia, Florida, South Carolina, Pennsylvania, and Utah and didn’t get to see each other but a few times this school year. We had kept in touch, but not the in-depth touch that we had with each other senior year.
The island is beautiful. There is really no way around not using that word. The house is facing the bay and a quick walk on a path from the back of the house through a swampy, green, vivid boardwalk to the crystal clear ocean. The trees seem to all be painted a vibrant green, and fish jump in and out of the bay day and night. The sunsets scream creation with bright orange streaks meeting baby blue skies. It’s hard not to see Gods artwork on this island. It is literally all around. You couldn’t even miss it if you were blind. You can hear the waves roaring from the bay, and the birds and bugs chirping during the night. He is all around and there is no way around that.
This island proves to be the perfect place to get away. There is no easy way to leave, to run away back into the busy life that glitters every street. You have to take a boat in and there are no cars or establishments. Once you get on the island, He sits you down in a real way and says “Stay for a while, my child, breathe in my presence.” And isn’t that a beautiful thing. With a group of girls that had been going a mile a minute all school year and summer, that is exactly what we needed. And with a group of sisters who had all grown through Him in huge, unexpected ways, that is exactly what we needed. And for a group of sisters who knows my heart, and my Fathers heart, that is exactly what I needed.
Days are short and nights are long. We didn’t set one alarm, and if we did, we sure couldn’t hear it. We woke up on our own pace, letting the sunlight seep through the French doors of the loft where we all (yes all 6 of us) slept every night. We would venture down to the beach and float in the light waves and baby blue waters, then lay and bask in the sunrays. We would talk, we would laugh, but most importantly, we would breathe. There was no schedule or pressure, nothing to do and nowhere to be, a concept that is foreign to us otherwise.
Every night we would go back out to the ocean after showering and napping. We would cast our eyes to the horizon to watch the flaming light show that our God painted for us each night. The oranges would start, and mix with the blues, to make the ending result of pinks and purple. It would have us silent then screaming, proclaiming our love for our Heavenly Father the artist painting a sky just for us to gaze in wonder and amazement at. Then, we would venture in and have a late dinner. Sit around one big table and talk about our lives, past and present. We would sit there with our food for what seemed like hours, listening to eachother, living together, being weird together and being real together. Then we would clear the table and bring out our beaten and scratched up bibles that traveled long and far with us this past year. We would all get into the word together, or just talk about real things. Like how much our Father loves us and how His presence is our good. And it was so raw and real and beautiful every night. The fellowship that I have between these girls is heaven-bound and I learn and understand so much just by listening to them.
The final night on the island was the most beautiful. I got to see two of my closest sisters get baptized in the light blue ocean under the bright orange sun-setting sky. I got to listen to them profess their faith, and remind us what it took to get them where they were. I got to see them get dunked into the ocean by our two leaders, two people who had aided in their journey to Him. I got to hug them, soaking wet, tears streaming down my eyes and ocean water dripping from my dress. And then, I got to run into the ocean with them, and everyone else, to bask in what seemed to be an extension of the sunset into the water. And to bask in what was obviously Gods treat to us, a wonderful display of redemption and beauty on that warm august night. We all went back and shared our stories, just to be remind of where are and where we’ve come from. It was a heart-wrenching time. Quick spurts of laughter broke the streams of tears from us, realizing how raw and broken we once were, and how full and whole we are now.
One thing sticks out between all of our stories: we were made to be in relationship with each other. We were made to find each other at the time we did. We were made to have the unforeseen fellowship we did. All of our stories lead to Him, and all of our stories intercept at one part: each other. It was comforting to be reminded how much we all have meant to one another. It was divine hearing everyone mention our group of friends in their story. Not one girl neglected to mention that we had been lead closer to Christ through our community, that we see Him in each other every day, and that we wouldn’t be where we are without each other.
We would end our night in different ways, movies, dance parties, star-gazing and golf-cart riding. No matter what we did, no matter how much sun I had gotten, I would always lay in my bed at night thanking my God for these girls. It makes me choke up to even begin to described how blessed I am to have these girls in my life. Girls that will not only watch me dance with Him, but who will dance along side me with Him, in the beautiful lives He has given us here on this earth, in full hope of the mysterious life left ahead of us. If there is one thing I know for certain about this world it is that He, my God, He has created us to be along side each other, searching for Him in the dark, and dancing with Him in the light.
beauuutifulll
ReplyDelete