It's Sunday Again

The sister of one of our core members owns a condo on the beach in Jacksonville Beach.  When it's not rented out, she invites the assistants to use it on our days off.  Yesterday I began my own silent, solo retreat, leaving behind computer, I-Pod books and guitar (and of course, I couldn't figure out how to work the TV, anyway).  I decided the occasion called for a vegan diet, since we don't get very much in the way of fresh, green veggies at Greatfull House except for salad mixings.

I walked at least four miles on the beach on a perfectly beautiful day.  Stopping to pick up some pretty shells, a 'salty dog' asked me if I had found any 'pieces of eight'.  He explained they were small, pie shaped pieces of real silver, having been buried on the ocean floor since the time of the Armada.  The casks have now rotted away and the silver pieces are washing ashore.  Most people spying them just think they're aluminum junk. (Don 't know if he was pulling my leg or what.)

Afterwards I swam several laps in the pool. Because of all the activity, I thought some yoga poses would be a good idea to keep from stiffening up.

At eventide I just sat on the balcony looking out at the horizon thirty miles away (did you know the horizon is always thirty miles from wherever you are?  A little piece of trivia I picked up as a sailor.)  The rhythm of the waves provided musical accompaniment to my thoughts of The Creation.  Yes, it's easy to find God in nature; it's hard to find Him in the hospital, nursing home and the homeless shelter.