California Dreamin' replete with tar balls compliments of BP!

We are heading up to Galveston Island this weekend. First, we will go to Houston, and then Saturday morning we will go to Stewart Beach, hopefully rent an umbrella and beach chairs, and let the kids into the nasty Galveston water. Why I am so excited to go play in that same ole' yucky water I've been playing in since I met Mike? There is something that is so peaceful about Galveston Island to me. I like the surf, the brown water, the laid back attitude of its inhabitants. I like the Taco Cabana that is two blocks from the beach. I like sandy ham sandwiches, salty Tom's potato chips, sea shells mixed with oil (they've been there as long as I can remember). I like the way the air smells, all fresh and new, like if you wade into the water and come out, it's the same feeling of starting over, of being reborn in a moment. I like that at the beach, you really don't worry about anything past sunscreen and keeping an eye on your kiddos. I like seeing the people pass by barefoot and in swimming attire, some of them dripping from a recent dip in the salty, foamy, jelly-fishy water. Don't read me wrong here: Galveston isn't the perfect beach for watching great looking bodies scoot by. It's all old people, grand kids, moms and dads. I'm not sure where the fabulous people are: they're never there when I am there. I like the way sand gets stuck inbetween your toes and never seems to fully come out, even days later. I like looking out into the abyss, and trying just for a moment to imagine a God whose word emerged on distant shores, far from Galveston, but still there, in me and right beyond where the sun sets into the ocean. He's there, I know.

The beach places within me such a knowing about how our world began. I like to muse that some agnostics think we came out of the salty water as four legged frogs. Our blood is like 97 percent similar to sea water. I think that in the moment of creation, God wanted to set a trail to him, so there are similiarities between us and the water, between whales, and dolphins and two legged humans.

Mostly, and shallowly, the beach offers a place to chill out, to do nothing but wriggle my sand inbetween my toes, search for shells with Molly, and watch Jack hurl his body into the tiny crashing waves. We will only be there Saturday. On Sunday, we are going to Memorial Church of Christ's VBS, and we'll do area attractions around H-town while Mike toils away at his job in Fort Worth. I know that toil is coming quickly for me, but for now, I plan to enjoy the weekend at my favorite beach.