Coming Together

There's nothing like cresting a sand dune ridge to reveal seemingly endless waves and beach either way you look. It's like the waves are greeting you with their going in and going out, kind of like a hand wave. As the beach welcomes us in, it also pushes us away. If there's a strong wind, it blows against us. The waves beat against our bodies again and again. If there are mosquitoes, they are relentlessly attacking. Will we be courageous enough to withstand the pushes to experience beauty and a good time? We were, and we did last week in Port Aransas.

Wind, sand, waves, seagulls, swimsuits, towels, shovels, and buckets. They are all separate, unique things, but when you put them together you get a beach trip. My extended family of 13 are all separate, unique people, but when you put us together you see our family. My parents, my two brothers and their families, and my excited kiddos pushed against busy schedules to come together.

You have the one who wasn't feeling well and never made it to the sand, but still wanted to help others.

You have the one who is having open-heart surgery in two weeks and is getting older, but doesn't let that stop him from enjoying life.

You have the basketball star and the one going to college soon who are brother and sister but friends, and went out together by themselves.

You have the one who sees needs and helps without being asked.

You have the quietly generous one.

You have the one who is a rockstar at staying calm.

You have the one who brings an excited energy wherever he goes.

You have the one who is the newest but fits right in.

You have the brave one who isn't afraid of getting knocked down by waves.

You have the one who sticks by his brother, no matter what.

You have the one who cares about everyone getting what they wanted from the trip.

You have the youngest one who was nicknamed “COAT” — Cutest Of All Time.

Family.

You have the one that is obeying the push and pull from the sun and moon.

You have the ones that help build a sandcastle and dig a moat.

You have the one that helps keep it cooler.

You have the one that keeps the water from going too far.

You have the one that keeps rotten animals off the beach.

You have the one that helps with modesty.

You have the one that dries the unwanted water.

The beach.

How much do I really know about the separate people of my family? How much do I really know about each separate component of the beach? I know what I experience and what I can learn from others about them, and that's it. There's so much I'm missing that I'll never know, and I have to be okay with that. I also have to be okay with the fact that there will never be another trip exactly like this one. But I do know that when we come together, beautiful things happen. Beautiful things like laughter from a Gestalt poetry game, funny out-of-context family quotes, spontaneous sunset splashing in normal clothes, pure joy from boogie boarding, good conversation, and good food.

Beautiful things like sunrises and sea snails and nature being how God designed it.

There is a God given purpose for each one, even if I don't see all of it.

It wasn't all just beautiful. There was hard that tried to push us away from peace. There was miscommunication. There were thunderstorms that kept us from the beach, and there were health issues. There was missing porch furniture and misleading photos of our rental. There were things that broke, both expensive and not.

It won't happen exactly the same way ever again. The same conversations won't happen, and the waves won't hit exactly the same way. There were hard pushes and there were easy times, but it was beautiful and a good experience, and I'm happy we all had the courage to make it happen.

When the time comes for our next trip together, I pray we can be just as flexible and joyful, noticing the pieces that work together to make a beautiful whole.