Dearest Memories

I really don't know how to begin this post.

I think I'll begin with those suffering back east due to that massive monstronsity of a storm called Sandy. My heart goes out to you. Especially those who have experienced significant loss. I am praying for you.

(The front of my great grandmother's former bungalow)

The loss I'm going to write about seems trite compared to those mentioned above. Yet, it is a loss. And loss hurts. Deeply.

I think that is the intention of deep loss and hurting, don't you think? Perhaps to kindly adjust our eyes towards eternity? To the One who holds all things, is over all things, and commands the wind and the waves.

You see, see that little bungalow with my great grandmother on the porch over to the right in the sidebar? Well that dear bungalow built by my great grandfather is gone. That powerful Atlantic ocean is home to it now.

And this sweet row of small bungalows is gone as well. A favorite drive way of my childhood, straight to my grandmother's little place.

I'm not sure how many summer vacations we took here as a family after we moved to another state. But you can be sure, my sisters and I looked forward to this every time. The sound of the waves, the crunching of sand as feet tromped up the drive to the hill and over to the beach, the seagulls, the slamming of screen doors. Adults staying up late, playing cards and laughing as my sisters and I lie awake listening and anticipating the next day's delights.

I remember vividly one time when we arrived after a four day drive across country to our summer destination, running out of the station wagon and dropping to my knees as I repetitively scooped up the beautiful, white sand and let it drain through my fingers. Aaaaah, yes. My favorite place on earth at the time.

For some reason God allowed me to visit this special place from my childhood with my parents just two weeks ago. We had no idea Sandy was coming. And no idea that we were going to say good~bye.

I still can't take it all in yet. Perhaps this will be hard to believe, given the fact that my business is named after the bungalows AND I sell antiques. But I'm not a fan of living in the past. Yet our past, guided by a loving, sovereign hand, influences and shapes who we are.

And God seems to care about it, that is to say, care about us. To care about our memories, to show His precious love through them. That's what I can't quite take in yet. That He would care about something like that, to use it to show His kindness and gracious character. To remind me that He is in control, that, actually, if He cares enough about allowing me to see the beach that holds my dearest childhood memories before it is gone forever...oh how much more does He care about the deepest trials I am facing and will face in the future.

Dear, sweet Lord. You are good, loving and gracious to me! King of my past, present and future.