Sometimes when I walk on the beach, my mind seems totally vacant. I discover I’ve walked most of the way back without any awareness at all, as if I’ve been on some other planet or alone in a dark room. I’ve missed the experience I’ve just had, blank to the waves, the wind, the birds, and even the feel of the sun. Too often my prayer life resembles those ‘automatic pilot’ beach walks; I say words and mumble responses, but I’m not really attending to the conversation I’m supposed to be having. Like reciting a duty list by rote, I fail to make any connection to God and waste the time I’ve set aside for us. Forgive me, Lord, when I withdraw my attention from your world and your presence. Please help me focus on my time with you so I am enriched. Forgive me my inattention and keep me fully alert and aware. Amen.
Almost all of the empty shells on the beach reveal a small, round hole. It is this hole through which they were attacked and killed by a creature that drills
As I write this, seated alone in my room, a breeze plays over me from the open window. It isn’t a continual presence, but small puffs, gusts, and eddies that
Sea foam washed over my feet as I waded at the dividing line between shore and surf. Like white soapsuds, the foam floated at the water’s edge, piled up in
