I’ve recently had some beach time, so all’s right with the world.
Wait, that’s fake news. Everything’s not all right with the world, but it is true that I thoroughly enjoyed soaking up the stress-relieving rhythms of the ocean along Florida’s Gulf Coast last month and it was very therapeutic.
It had been two years since we’d gone to the beach and that’s too long for me. Hurricane Flo blew in and sabotaged our plans to visit Hilton Head last fall. My skin could always use a good exfoliation, but getting sandblasted by hurricane-force winds didn’t sound like fun, so we cancelled our plans, which made me all the more eager to finally dig my toes in the sand last month.
I have strong sentimental ties to the Gulf Coast because that’s where I was first introduced to the ocean as a kid when my family made annual trips to Panama City Beach. Those are great memories, in spite of the fact that I was stuck in the backseat with my two brothers for that long drive from Indiana. My assignment was to entertain my little brother when he wasn’t carsick and to hold a coffee can pressed up against his face when he was. Fifty years later, I still expect my brother to have that red ring around his face when I see him.
When it came time for me to pick a college, Auburn’s relative proximity to the beach was, I confess, a factor. That was also true when my husband was offered a job in South Carolina 39 years ago.
Since then, we try to make it to the beach at least once a year. We’ve camped, stayed in some truly dumpy houses, and enjoyed some very nice rental homes and condos. We’ve deepened bonds with family and friends and had some good times catching up and catching our breath.
But those good times weren’t perfect because our beach trips have also included sand on the floors and in the beds, sunburns, endless applying and reapplying of sunscreen, heat and humidity, and furniture and beds that are never quite as comfy as home.
So the truth is, as much as I look forward to time at the beach, I’m usually equally ready to get back home when the week is over. Maybe I’m just perpetually discontent or an incurable homebody, but I think it’s more likely just a reality of life in a fallen world.
Even the best times and places aren’t perfect, and at some level we’re always aware of the gap between how things are and how they should be.
So what do we do with that unscratchable itch for perfection?
The Apostle Paul answered that for us in Colossians 3:2: “Set your mind on things above … .” That’s easier said than done, but it certainly helps me cope with the disappointments I encounter in the here and now.
Perfection is coming for Christ-followers—an eternity without sin, hunger, thirst, scorching heat, tears, death, mourning, crying or pain (Revelation 7:16, 21:4).
Raise your hand if you want that. (Mine’s up as high as it will go.)
Once I step into heaven, I’m sure I’ll realize that clinging to this life and the things of this world was like a child dreading a trip to Disney World because she can’t imagine anything better than the mud hole she’s playing in. Even if our mud hole seems nice and comfy, it’s still a mud hole compared to what God has planned for those who are His.
It’s not morbid for us to look forward to that day when perpetual discontentment finally becomes perpetual bliss.
And thankfully, we can leave the sunscreen behind. All we have to pack is our faith in Jesus.