More in number than the sand

The facts are these: 1. Losing my phone to the salty ocean water was a blessing

2. Fresh shrimp + ice cold beer + best bros = best way to spend an afternoon

3. Waking up to see the sun rise over the ocean will speak more to my heart than a million books ever could

4. Dance parties are always better once everyone's had a few drinks

5. Spending a week on the beach just isn't long enough

After making one last pass through the beach house on Saturday morning, just before our drive home, I couldn't help but feel a hint of melancholy. This house had come to know the sounds of early morning coffee, the pitter patter of a toddlers footsteps, the way wine poured in our glasses and the way we all rose our glasses to give thanks to the Father for allowing us to be together in one place. The walls still echoed our laughter and talks from the week before. Of course we will always have the memories, and photographs, to look back on and remember. But there was something deeper I think the Father was talking to me about that I want to try and bring to light.

The beach house was a representation of His body, His church. It was built with plenty of rooms to rest and plenty of space to stretch out and relax. It had a huge kitchen to cook in and a big table to gather around and eat and drink at. There wasn't a moment in time that I ever felt cramped or that I couldn't take a few minutes to escape on the porch and just sit in silence to watch the ocean. In essence it had more than enough room for all twelve of us that stayed in the house. We were free to move around and come and go as we pleased. We were free to get a little crazy and have a dance party in the same way we were free to just chill and relax. Most of all we were free to be ourselves.

One of the coolest things that we all got to experience being down at the beach was the sand. It is everywhere. You can't escape it. When we would get home it was all over the floor and even found its way in our sheets. You could sweep it up and try and wash it out, but the next day it would be back again. And that's the amazing part, because in the same way that we could never count the number of grains of sand on the beach is the exact same way God thinks about us. We can never count the thoughts God has towards us. And we can try to ignore them or get rid of them, but they'll be back again tomorrow.

I love how the simple things in life are the most profound.