Last week I did something I have never done in my 12 years of writing.

I went to the beach for a writing retreat.

I had been praying this past winter about being wholehearted in all areas of my life. (Wholehearted is my word of the year for 2022.) I have felt weary lately and that has made writing more than difficult. It is hard to be a wholehearted writer when you aren’t wholehearted in anything.  I now write more for others than I do my own heart. This is necessary in this current chapter of my life, but it has contributed to my current mental fatigue.

The truth is, I’ve felt fragmented.

 I realized as well that the beach is my resting place. It fills me like no other place. With life being so crazy, I just haven’t been able to get there but once or twice in the past couple of years. EVEN though I live only about 45 minutes from the nearest beach. And so, I prayed, I put up a note on Facebook and a dear friend made me an offer of a few days on the beach at her condo. I KNEW this was. provision from the LORD. I carved out some time, no small feat, invited another writing friend, and went.

One of my favorite things in the world is morning at the beach. 

 I love opening the door to the balcony, hearing the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, watching the sun come up and seeing the colors change on the water. It mesmerizes me.

I am always amazed at the certainty of the sunrise. Especially at the ocean. The way the light wins every time over the darkness, and how the sky responds to dawn without resistance. The first day was all light, the second day, Good Friday was different. It was cloudy. The colors dark. The waves are more grey-green than crisp blue.

A fitting sadness seemed to cover the horizon.

A little like my own heart over the past year or so.

But morning brings new mercies. And do small, long overdue writing retreats. I was so grateful to witness the waves crashing against the shore once again. To walk along the edge and just let my heart absorb it all.

I did some necessary work.

I rested (a little).

I returned home to the many tasks left undone.

And I made plans to go back.

Looking Forward,

Stacey

P.S. I know I said I’d try to write and post each Saturday. Thank you for grace over the past couple of weeks. I’m sure the rest of the year will be much the same.

P.P.S. Check out my newest book Unraveled: Hope for the Mom at the End of Her Rope. Coming 5/3/22.