Last weekend, Eleanor went with the youth group on a trip to the beach.
(Digression: I have to say, it is pretty cool living in a place where one weekend you can go to the beach and the next weekend you can go to the mountains. Where I grew up, we could go to the lake or to the lake. Our youth group went to a camp on Lake Superior, which was actually pretty cool. The driftwood on the lake was fun, there were dripping pine forests, sometimes canoes, always sitting on the porch in the sun, unless it was raining or snowing. It was refreshing to be sitting in the middle of the woods a million miles from anywhere---very different from going to a beach in NC at practically any time of year. As I recall there was even a sauna, for the winter. But you could definitely not go swimming in October---or even August, unless you were very brave.)
On Friday night she went wading in the ocean, wearing her crocs. A wave as big as she is came crashing in to shore and she ran to the beach, trying to get out of the ocean. Unfortunately, her shoes got caught in the sand and were swept out to sea.
The counselors and other kids tried to comfort Eleanor, saying that they were just crocs, and there were other shoes around that she could borrow. I'm not sure who brings multiple pairs of shoes along on a beach retreat, but there you go. I would have told her that the crocs were too small...they fit me, so they probably don't fit her. But Eleanor was pretty sad.
The next morning she was walking on the beach and saw her other shoe, half buried in the sand. One shoe is not enough, so that afternoon, when they were spending some time in prayer and solitude on the beach, Eleanor wrote in the sand, "I wish I could find my other shoe." Just as she wrote that, she saw one of the counselors half a mile down the beach. He had found her other shoe, far away from the place they were staying and far away from where she had lost it.
I am grateful that we have a God who listens to our hearts, sometimes even to the level of finding shoes. I am also grateful that we don't have to get Eleanor another pair of crocs quite yet.
(Digression: I have to say, it is pretty cool living in a place where one weekend you can go to the beach and the next weekend you can go to the mountains. Where I grew up, we could go to the lake or to the lake. Our youth group went to a camp on Lake Superior, which was actually pretty cool. The driftwood on the lake was fun, there were dripping pine forests, sometimes canoes, always sitting on the porch in the sun, unless it was raining or snowing. It was refreshing to be sitting in the middle of the woods a million miles from anywhere---very different from going to a beach in NC at practically any time of year. As I recall there was even a sauna, for the winter. But you could definitely not go swimming in October---or even August, unless you were very brave.)
On Friday night she went wading in the ocean, wearing her crocs. A wave as big as she is came crashing in to shore and she ran to the beach, trying to get out of the ocean. Unfortunately, her shoes got caught in the sand and were swept out to sea.
The counselors and other kids tried to comfort Eleanor, saying that they were just crocs, and there were other shoes around that she could borrow. I'm not sure who brings multiple pairs of shoes along on a beach retreat, but there you go. I would have told her that the crocs were too small...they fit me, so they probably don't fit her. But Eleanor was pretty sad.
The next morning she was walking on the beach and saw her other shoe, half buried in the sand. One shoe is not enough, so that afternoon, when they were spending some time in prayer and solitude on the beach, Eleanor wrote in the sand, "I wish I could find my other shoe." Just as she wrote that, she saw one of the counselors half a mile down the beach. He had found her other shoe, far away from the place they were staying and far away from where she had lost it.
I am grateful that we have a God who listens to our hearts, sometimes even to the level of finding shoes. I am also grateful that we don't have to get Eleanor another pair of crocs quite yet.
Comments