I stood at the edge of the Pacific off the coast of Wailea one night. I was thinking about how small I felt in comparison to those dark waves stretched unendingly out in front of me.

It was so beautiful that evening.

On the one hand, it was a bit unsettling; the ocean doesn’t feel the same in the dark as it does during the day. If we think it full of awe in sunlight; well, it’s completely unfathomable at night.

But it was also comforting…the experience giving me one of those moments of dichotomy that only happen when you’re still. There was a want there, too…one that I can never quite weave words around.

It’s longing, and it’s mixed up with love somehow; always bringing with it this sense that something Good is out there, and over here, and all around me.

I don’t know yet, but I think (and I’m pretty sure I’m right) that it’s what David meant when he said deep calls to deep. It’s the eternal in us being called and coaxed and drawn by the Eternal in Him.

We have amazing souls, friends. Don’t ever, even for an instant, let anyone tell you differently.

I have all these favorite bits and pieces of the Word; they seem so often to scramble for the top spot…changing with my mood or need. But these great, creative (in the truest sense of that word) phrases tucked away in the Books of Wisdom get to me every time.

“Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth; who marked off its dimensions? Who laid its cornerstone while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy?

“Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther; here is where your proud waves halt?’ ”

These words re-focus our souls on beauty and majesty and the grace evident all around us. They remind us of the limits of our humanity, yes; but much more of the limitlessness of God.

It’s been a tough few weeks. Sometimes the events of our world, nation and communities are so heavy; hard for the head to understand and the heart to accept. The struggles are brought to us – in real time. And in vivid, living, sound and color.

They come daily, hourly, minute by minute.

So I want to tell those of you that I know and love – as well as those of you I would love to know: just for today, just for a few hours, just shut it all off.  Telephone, cell phone, tablets, television. As job and circumstance allow, step away for a bit and take in your own living sound and color.
Look for purity, peace, honesty, and those exquisite pockets of happiness. They’re there in the simplest things.

I found it in the teenager at Walgreen’s who helped cash out my milk and peanut butter. He was funny and charming and kind.

I saw it in the daffodil shoots coming up in my garden.

I saw it in my Abbie-girl’s floppy retriever ears as she put her head in my lap.

It was in the cup of coffee my husband brought by my office.

I saw it in a series of texts from my sisters.

I felt it in a hug from Shelly.

I think as we deliberately take in these small graces, we are equipping ourselves to go out and give away big graces – to people like the hurting parents in Florida who just want their amazing kids back.

Or to the members of the police force here in my community who are searching tirelessly for the little boy missing for nearly a week.

Or for the people near your own bit of earth who need you to be there for them.

God bless you, friends.

You are so, so often grace and beauty to me.