Then God said, “Let there be a space between the waters, to separate the waters of the heavens from the waters of the earth.” And that is what happened. God made this space to separate the waters of the earth from the waters of the heavens. God called the space “sky.”
And evening passed and morning came, marking the second day.
Then God said, “Let the waters beneath the sky flow together into one place, so dry ground may appear.” And that is what happened. God called the dry ground “land” and the waters “seas.” And God saw that it was good.Genesis 1:6-10
I have said this before, but it’s worth repeating, “We live in a beautiful state!” North Carolina, from the mountains we enjoyed at the beginning of August (The Peace and the Glory) to the Piedmont where we live here in Wake Forest (spectacular golf course), to the Atlantic coast where we were blessed to be this past weekend.
It is all amazing. And, one day when I have more freedom of movement, I plan to travel the entire state and craft a series of photo essays that does it justice.
Breath of fresh air:
So Rebekah and I were gone just overnight, but from the walk we had dodging rain squalls (and getting soaked) at North Myrtle Beach, to the beautiful hour we enjoyed on Sunset Beach between more torrential downpours, to the classic seafood dinner at Inlet View Bar & Grill that evening during another storm, we managed to drink in some of the precious fresh air, relax, and take in the views.
Peace and clarity:
It is just sand and water, but in this coming together of the land and the sea – this liminal space where eternity washes up against time, this juxtaposition of known and unknown, flesh and spirit, where oceans and tides are moved by a body outside of this good Earth, and where the liquid sun drops behind the dunes in the evening and emerges from the ocean depths the next day, dripping with promise and whispering hope – we find such peace and clarity that we wonder how all the noise of the rest of our lives ever amounts to anything at all.
There, holding hands and walking slowly across the sands, Rebekah and I always find ourselves again. Always, we leave younger than when we arrived. Always, we return in some sense to the place where we were first created, now recreated, here in The Beginning.
“And evening passed and morning came, marking the second day…” – and we returned home.