Two weeks ago I sobbed to Cody about my need to be somewhere that wasn’t Indiana.
The two main requirements were that the somewhere had to have soft warm sand and water that touched the horizon.
I felt so stupid and selfish. There I was in a brilliant new house on a soft warm bed sobbing about being somewhere else. Cody and I will celebrate our nine year anniversary next month and we have never been away on (what I consider) a real, grown up vacation that required passports, resort fees or even bathing suits.
Wah. I know.
But the trip means more to me than just a getaway, I want Cody. To myself. All to myself. For days on end. No where to be, nothing to do but each other and maybe sleep. I can say with complete confidence that after nine years of being his wife and the stuff we’ve been through, a chance to be alone together on a beach thousands of miles from “real life” wouldn’t stink.
But it just can’t happen. It’s neither realistic or possible right now. “Real life” is all up in our faces.
But God took mercy on me today and I ended up on an unseasonally warm sandy beach of a great lake.
Where perfectly blue water met a perfectly blue sky.
I had warm, soft sand between my toes, my camera and some of the people whom I love most in this world there with me.
No, it wasn’t the tropical beach with fruity umbrella drinks, swimsuits and Cody I had planned out in MY head.
It was Lake Michigan with sippy cups, Emily and very sandy underpants.
God? Your mysterious ways? They’re working, and I’m paying attention.
Thank you for today.