Silence

I have too much to say.
It all wants to come out at once, but, because of the prolific amount of thoughts I have, the inverse has happened.

I am silent.
I am silent because there is too much.
Too much to say and too much to be done.

As always, God is good, and I need to remember that He is totally in control, no matter how crazy my life may feel.

Here are some pictures of the fantastic spur-of-the-moment vacation/road trip I had with a sweet friend.

I need a pet egret. Aren't they cute?

absorbing the beauty

Dunes

The storm creeps up on the unsuspecting condos...

Vacations are such fantastic things.
It's like you get a chance to push every problem away to being a blip on the horizon of thought.
It's a form of denial, I know.
Blissful denial.

Vacations make your worries teeny-tiny, like these people

When on vacation, you simply revel in the lists of fun things to do as opposed to the stressful adult things that must be done. Because, oh man, I know I'm getting ready to plunge into some stress.

 I remember, while sitting on the sandy shores as a warm breeze blew and the waves crashed, thinking, "At this moment, I have nothing to stress out over, nothing to work on at the moment. I am free to just be and relax."

...of course, after a few days, just being gets old, and one begins to long to feel needed again; to rush back into the race of life and be productive.

I know that in my walk with God, I'm called to not worry (that is one of the hardest commandments ever) I'm called to serve and shine. I should always have the feeling that I can just be in God's presence.

While we were out, I got sun. A lot of sun. I was so freckled. So so freckled. My hair turned even more copper.

Oh, and then there was the sound.
It had soft squishable black sand.

In a moment of genius, I suggested that we put some on out faces.
Shockingly, my friend agreed.

As I slathered my face with the mud, I realized it was one of the most daring things I felt I had done in a long while.

Even more daring than climbing 20 feet up into a tree.
Even more daring than driving a manual car in rush hour traffic.
Even more daring than dancing in a thunderstorm.
Even more daring, than, well, you get the point...

The masque actually worked!

We biked all over. I had forgotten how much I love biking.

We talked about all sorts of things, but then there were times when my friend and I were silent. It wasn't an angry silence, or an awkward silence, it was a contemplative silence.

Sometimes, there are no words, especially when you're in such a pretty place as the beach.