Contemplation Despite a Red Tide

It was one of those perfect moments. We only get a few of those, you know. You can't plan for those and you can't force them to happen. Our annual family beach trip usually produces a few, but not always. I'm always overwhelmed by the amount of planning and preparation that is involved in getting this many people to one location and one space of time. Within minutes of arrival, the sheer volume of toys, food and equipment could probably feed a third world country, though none of us would be considered wealthy. We wanted a large family and God gave it to us. There were only four children but now they're producing. We're taking over...

Last night, we waited for what seemed like hours to get a seat at the restaurant. The host asked how many and I said: "10 adults, 9 children." He said, "Are you sure?" I said yes I'm sure. Why? He said, "Well, kids actually take up a good bit of space too" while he had an extreme snarky look on his face. I wasn't sure why he did the snark, but I sensed that the subject of "children" was unpleasant to him. I wanted to slap him but restrained myself. Suffer the little children...

Finally, we had eaten, everyone had taken a potty break and we headed back to our cars. The Red Tide has taken over the Gulf, so we've had to avoid the beach. Just being in close proximity made us all start coughing. But after supper, the damp air must have tamped down the Tide, and we all walked in the sweet night air. Our cars were many paces away. Ken and I were last, trailing behind the others. There were our three sons and their wives, our daughter and her husband, and nine grandchildren aged 8 and under...all the personalities and quirks spread out in front of us. The sun had just gone down, the sky a miracle of pink and gray, massive clouds and fire. What surely was Jupiter was hanging out like a sparkling diamond. I was exulting in the amazing grace of God to give us all these good gifts, gifts of people and sun and sky. As I turned around, the moon glowed impossibly large, wrapped with mysterious gossamer threads. It was one of those moments where time seemed to stand still. There are the twin conundrums of loss and blessing, right before us. Bright, happy toddlers; sassy and savvy 8-year-old girls who are smarter than us; boys full of snakes, snails and puppy dog tails; our new grandson, not even walking yet; another boy, we are celebrating his due date in December; and then one of our daughters-in-law, suffering palpably (and we all suffer too) with the loss of Theo, who was lost at her 18-week pregnancy. This is also the time of year when we lost my Daddy, three years ago. Each beach trip we've ever taken is a time where I take time to reflect on our journey. Mercy and blessing, grace and loss. All of it a part of the circles of life. Our great challenge is to not be swallowed in the hardship, to see the greater picture and to embrace all, whether difficult or wonderful.