I don’t know if it’s the snowstorms and the snow that’s been left behind. Or the frigid temperatures we’ve had this winter—as low as -40C wind chill! Maybe it’s the bright sunshine today.

On second thought, it’s likely the fact that my sister, Karen, is by the sea enjoying warmer climes in the south this week. Azure skies. Calming seas. Trees, flora, sand, food. Different from the everyday here. Rest from the usual. A reprieve from the cold and snow. Refreshment for the body and soul.

There’s something special in watching the sea…

Some years ago I was on Vancouver Island, in a cottage by the sea. Come with me as I return to those few days.


 day one


Waves move forward purposely. Ever closer they seek out the far shoreline. 

Sand, shells, stones, small sea critters—nothing will deter the waves or the rhythm of their days.

Grey skies umbrella the action, the work of the waves. 

From time to time heavy clouds release their offering to the sea.

Waves, sky, clouds—they live their purpose. 

Fleeting clouds. Rolling waves. Endless sky. In concert they live in obedience to the Master of the sea and sky.

Listen to the sea…


day two

The sun brightens the waves today after days of rain and cool and drear. 

The changing tide is well out after lapping so close in near days past. Boats look calm, gently bouncing on the waves. One is working for its supper, and many other suppers—a fishing boat.



This morning the mountains are backed by the clouds—heavy, fluffy clouds. White and blue mingle upward until bright blue takes over. Water and sky, sand and shore, rock and shells beckon to me.


“Fill your lungs with fresh air. 

Fill your eyes with this vista of ever-changing beauty. 

Fill your soul with My presence, in My creation of sand and sea and sky…and in you.”

day three

Eyes down, I saunter along the beach. A friend asked me to look for a particular type of shell. 

The tide is out and shells are abundant. Small ones. Big ones. Some are whole and sport a hole right in the middle of the shell. Compete shells are rare. Most are broken. White, pink, yellow, brown, purple—a rainbow of shells.



As I walk the ocean floor my shoe prints join a myriad of those left behind by earlier walkers. Large prints and smaller ones. Birds, ducks, seagulls, dogs, humans—they have all contributed to this kaleidoscope of pattern.


Most interesting are the “worms” on the sand.


Marks in the sand are sometimes unidentifiable—maybe from something dragged along as the tide journeys out. 

Even the waves leave “footprints” in the sand.

Rocks and stones, most adorned with barnacles, seaweed—these are also on display.

As I retrace my steps, I see where I came from. I look back and see where I’ve been. I am leaving an imprint on the ocean floor! 

But, in a few short hours the tide will come in. It will wash away all evidence of anything and anyone on the beach, the ocean floor.

In a few short years, my opportunity to leave my imprint on the “floor” of this earth will end. The waves of time will wash away the evidence of my existence.

Or will they?

“Only what’s done for Christ will last.” 


Let’s journey together…



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