As I awaken I slowly make my way to the coffee pot and settle outside on the balcony. I notice on the horizon a vein of color start to appear. The darkness seems to split into like the narrow slit of God’s eye waking up into the world. In one corner primrose streamlining into a bold red as the clouds begin to descend from each other leaving a narrow entry for the sun to rise. Slowly the breadth of the horizon cast brilliant henna and citrine as God takes His paintbrush splashing in bright coral with a touch of lavender. The morning turns into an iridescent glow that can only be described as a Heavenly wake up call. I thank God for all the magnificent sunrises he has painted for me in an array of colors and shadows that not one has been the same. I feel as though I have my own personalized collection from the most divine, talented artist that ever lived.
I took the suggestion from good ole mom to get out of my apartment; go take a walk she harmonized along with its physical benefits.
I procrastinated on every step towards the door; right down to realizing I may need to add a dash of color to my pale cheeks, otherwise I may be mistaken for a northerner at the start of her South Florida vacation, rather than a resident of the sunshine state.
I decided to turn my walk into one of gratitude rather than worry about my future and where I would be a year from now. I was grateful for being alive and actually having working limbs that carried me across the drawbridge. I focused on my health, which could improve greatly, my children, which led me straight back to where I started with questions like, “Why was I here?” “Why won’t they call me?” “Is Steve really that evil?” right into, “Am I going to ever have my family back?” This could go on the entire walk until I asked God to help me focus on what He would have me focus on.
I crossed the never—ending—hustle and bustle of Atlantic Beach Blvd determined to find God amidst my surroundings. Suddenly the street noise was not as loud, as though the traffic was far in the distance or I was moving farther away from it. Tanned bodies were scattered along the cinnamon-sugar beach. Some with definite signs of wear and tear as they relaxed under the shade of palm tress. The younger, glowing, more defined bodies were applying the tanning oils or adjusting their I-tunes.
Walking along the sandy sidewalk I noticed the defined swooshing sound of the waves and how they seemed to be in perfect rhythm with my strides. The ocean was a rare jewel with different shades of emerald stretching into deep sapphire tones. I noticed a sail boat on the horizon and longed to be on it sailing to some far-away island where there were no worries; only ardent days of joy and peaceful nights of awe.
My daydream was interrupted as I looked in the sound of the clanging and clattering noise. There in front of me was Florida’s version of Old Saint Nick, pulling his metal detectors and sand sifters from his red pickup truck.
I picked up my pace as I headed back to my apartment. I couldn’t wait to get to my computer and write about the wonderful details God disclosed to me rather than have me swirling around within my powerlessness.