There’s something about water that calms the soul. I sat on Burlington Beach tonight as the sun was setting. The gulls wheeled through the air, looking for food. The waves gently splashed the shore. I watched a steady stream of boats move slowly across the lake as they returned to the harbour for the night.
I got up and walked barefoot along the water’s edge, squishing the sand between my toes. Nearby, an old man combed the beach with a metal detector, looking for treasures. A little further away, a group of teenagers played volleyball. Their laughter floated on the wind. Occasionally, someone walking their dog would pass me. But, for the most part, I was alone.
I sat down again and savoured the moment. It was soothing for a soul desperately in need of rest. A soul plagued by doubts, struggling to find a firm footing. This has always been the place that I come to when I need to find myself. The place that I come to when I need to find God again.
I thought about Jesus teaching and preaching along the shores of the Sea of Galilee. At the end of the day, when He was weary to the bone, did He too wander along the beach and talk to the Father? And the fishermen who followed Him, did they sit in the sand as the sun was setting and pray?
I was supposed to meet a friend at the beach but we somehow missed each other. Sometimes there are divine appointments. Perhaps sometimes there are divine missed appointments too. Because instead of meeting my friend, I met with an even closer Friend. And He breathed life into my tired soul.