The Taste of Salt

I’m sitting at the beach today, and I keep thinking that I should be happy. The sun is shining, there’s just enough breeze to push away the humidity, and the salty air feels good. I can hear the surf and the seagulls, and there is something about being near the water that usually settles something inside me. It’s beautiful here. It really is.

And yet my tears keep falling.

I wish I could tell my mind to stop. I wish I could put all of the relationship stuff somewhere for a few hours and simply enjoy where I am. I keep wondering why I can’t let the crap go and focus on what’s right in front of me. But the truth is, the relationship is part of what’s in front of me. It isn’t something I can just set aside and pretend isn’t affecting me. When someone matters to you, what happens between you matters. I think I’m learning that I can’t shame myself into being present.

Last night, though, I had a little taste of what I think I’ve been needing. I sat on the observation deck at the RV place and just breathed. I was alone with the Lord. There was nothing I needed to explain, no conversation I needed to have, no decision I needed to make. Just me sitting there, breathing, and Him being there with me.

I didn’t suddenly have answers. The situation didn’t magically become easier. My heart wasn’t suddenly fixed. But for a little while, I didn’t have to fix anything. I could just sit there and breathe. And somehow that felt like enough.

Maybe that’s what I need to remember today.

I don't have to figure everything out while I’m sitting here looking at the ocean. I don’t have to force myself to stop hurting before I’m allowed to enjoy the sunshine. Maybe I can cry and still notice the breeze. Maybe I can be heartbroken and still listen to the waves. Maybe I can be confused about a relationship and still be grateful that the Lord gave me this place to sit and breathe.

I think I’ve been treating peace like it can only come after everything is resolved. If the relationship were better, then I could relax. If I knew what was going to happen, then I could enjoy myself. If I could just get my thoughts under control, then I could finally be present.

But maybe peace doesn’t work that way.

Maybe sometimes peace is sitting on an observation deck with tears in your eyes and realizing you aren’t alone. Maybe it’s taking one deep breath and then another. Maybe it’s letting God sit with you in the middle of something you don't understand instead of demanding that He give you an answer before you can rest.

So today I’m going to try something different.

I’m not going to tell myself I shouldn’t be sad because I’m at the beach. I’m not going to tell myself that I should be grateful enough that the hurt disappears. And I’m not going to pretend the relationship isn’t affecting me just because the sun is shining.

But I also don’t want this pain to steal every beautiful thing from me.

The ocean is still here.

The breeze is still here.

The salty air is still filling my lungs.

And the Lord is still here.

Maybe that's enough for today.

Maybe I don't have to let everything go.

Maybe I just need to loosen my grip for a little while, breathe, and trust that I don't have to carry every piece of this all by myself.

For now, I’m going to let the salt in my tears mix with the ocean mist.

And I’m going to watch the water anyway.