Coastal Living

Today we took a day trip to a small town called Puerto Saavedra.

 Last February we came to the same town, and I remember having one of the richest moments of my adult life staring out at the majestic Pacific Ocean. Today, was quiet and restful. It too, held meaning.

It takes about an hour. We drove in our car – a family of four. The kids sat in the back playing games on their iPods, and listened to the music. My husband and I held hands and chatted back and forth about the scenery, the beauty of the country, the wide flowing river, the cows and horses in the fields. We enjoyed long moments of silence, where neither of us felt it necessary to fill with frivolous words. There’s a richness to companionship, to living life together over many years and across many miles. As we drove, I thought to myself that marriage is indeed worth it.

There are times in the grime and dirt of learning to yield to one another, of learning the language of self-less love that I have doubted the outlasting benefits of long-lasting marriage. Today, as I sat in my car, holding my husband’s hand, as we walked as family down a stunning beach with the fresh wind in my face I gave thanks, and made note that it is a worthwhile journey. It is worth it to learn to speak with our hearts and learn to hear the words of someone else’s. It might cost us a lifetime of travail, it might at times seem as if you’ll never learn that person’s particular heart language – but if we keep pressing in, if we keep at it, keep trusting that forgiveness and relinquishing our expectations will one day bear fruit … I think we’ll learn to appreciate all the more those moments on the ocean when we get to hold hands with our best friend and take a deep breath and think quietly, “I’m so glad you picked me.”

One other thing about today rendered me speechless. I am always blown away in raw wonder whilst watching my children laugh and dance in front of crashing waves. It’s how alive they are. It’s how Lucas stands with his legs spread apart as if he thinks he can hold back the incoming wave. It’s how Emma frolics and shrieks as the water laps over her ankles and she’s overcome by its temperature. It’s watching them giggle together and prance as the white foam tickles their toes. It makes me remember the love of being a kid – when the whole world was ours for the taking and nothing could stop us from running into the wind and believing it was all possible.

The ocean is healing. The consistent crash of the waves against the earth, the cool salt wind in our hair, the sun-breaks that cast light on our shadows – it’s worth every minute of any drive it takes to get to the sea. For once there, we remember how finite we are, how big the world is, and how we can’t hold back the great majestic power – we can only revel in it and submit ourselves to its lessons.

Much love,

Tina