The South Padre locals say the water's freezing, but really it's much like the Missouri in June. Some say the town is desolate now, but looking down the road randomly dotted with cars, it looks a lot like home. Others say we need to come back during the season, but hearing Meg hum over the sound of crashing waves as she builds sandcastles, I think it's a perfect time.
The best and sometimes hardest part of receiving God's goodness is accepting it's receipt. It's humbling ourselves and opening our hands and hearts to what God has for us.
Today, it meant I had to stop feeling down about the 100 things to do when I return home, the fate of all gifts resting in Amazon's hands, the holiday traditions we're expected to adhere to, and everything coming up with the holidays I've done nothing to prepare for.
It's irritating how time doesn't wait. Doesn't it realize I'm preoccupied? The fact I can't do anything so many miles from home frustrates me.
It struck me odd, having all these things I could easily overlook and find the good in, but yet I feel grumpy over all these things I can't do anything about.
Sitting there on the beach with Meg I had to remind myself to take what God's offering me now. To accept the good He's handing me and enjoy it. Be grateful for it, no matter if it's what I was looking for or not.
Maybe the locals have a point. Things could be different. Meg digs her fingers in the sand and asks if I know how awesome it is. I let go of my book and hold out my hand. She giggles as wet sand clumps and falls from her hand into mine. God's goodness is all around us, if only we're willing to receive.