7pm cicadas sing.
Burrowed under ground for seventeen years, they emerge, well hidden among shades of green and tymbal muscles contract.
Only for a few weeks, they strum their song.
Summers last song.
Warm nights darken early.
End of season is close and nature knows how to fold, its purpose planted by God who supplies and sustains even the tiniest of insects. From fields of wheat, to orchards of apples, to roaring seas God has the palm and in it is all that moves and breathes.
Summer moved and breathed and its last exhale lingers close. But beauty and memory remains of warm, hot nights, sea salt air, the sounds of waves against shore, the shouts of laughter and surprise from little mouths.
Part of our summer was spent there. Amongst the warm sands and hot sun and sea green oceans, we laid and praised this massiveness.
This massiveness of ocean's expanse, unfathomable.
His love reaches beyond this, beyond this massive floor of oceans depths, it is nearly incomprehensible to the human mind, fathomless.
For the beauty of the earth He made us and His love for us reaches beyond this place, past all that can be seen or felt, more than can ever be imagined or discovered or uncovered or reasoned.
Through Him there's more, more than just this.
In the moment we may think this is all there is, hold onto it, every moment, every memory, every breath and exhale. But to realize giving it up, letting it go, resting because the Creator created splendor unimaginable to the human mind and it waits for us.
He knows heart, His creation.
But for now, oceans roar gives glimpses of His love and His image. Powerful, beautiful, strong, peaceful, ever changing, a haven to all who seek.
It was a gift that a giver gave and it gave joy, undeserving joy.
Undeserving joy while hearts tug, tear and show sides of human nature.
But joy it strengthens spirit, hopes, and it never goes unnoticed for eyes that give are forever seen long after the gift has been given. Loved relentlessly, cherished, seen forever.
Memories of moments of soft warm sands beneath toes, early morning walks, long and warm afternoons spent in waters warmth, while innocence laughs and screams in its delight.
Its the sunset over the oceans sea green waves that catches breath and gasps and I remember.
The sunset splashed with orange, pinks, and reds next to the darkening sky's blue and white wide expanse.
For the beauty of the earth, I see with eyes that long to know, all of it and He beckons us to beyond, to see beyond.
Holiness surrounds. Holiness abounds here in the whiteness of sands, the coolness of oceans morning lap against feet, mesmerizing sunsets of orange and pinks, hands that feel oceans warmth, its all holiness, His all His.
Breathe in beauty and holiness and life for where it is so is His presence.
Life is only a taste for more waits and its more than a taste, but a peaceful rest of heart in knowing that He carries the hand that He made, and He rests the souls worries, and He quiets the hearts that mourn and God will silence it all, for He has given a salvation from, bought with a price He protects.
And what's left on shore will be in His palm; offer up prayer that He sustains and will fight and keep charge over the spirits we love.
But for now, summers song.
7pm cicadas sing.
And little hearts laugh and question life and big hearts tell the tales and learn to laugh and let go because its okay, Gods got this life.
Reach for His hand and Holiness here, wherever you are, on dusty gravel roads, on the seats of tractors, at a supermarket, brushing strands of soft hair, taking pulses, touching worn cheeks, protecting hearts, building homes, planting seeds, feeding hungry, serving sick... Reach.
His Holiness is here and cicadas sing His song.
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