Two years feels like forever to not talk to or see someone you love. To be completely removed from the rhythms of their lives, like you never existed. 

It happened instantly, after one conversation. Words intended to better understand a situation were flipped upside-down, exploding one question into full-blown estrangement. It left me in disbelief, slapped into the reality of regret and grief. 

Countless examinations and reviews had landed us in the same field, where we were no longer able to hold space for this hurtful dynamic. The tension between a deep belief of loving others as we love God and setting boundaries for our own well-being hurled us toward a breaking point.  

In this unknown, severed space, we surrendered, unsure of what was to come. Quiet love waited. Hopeful love prayed. Determined love searched for wisdom and discernment. Faithful love was patient. We asked for our own hearts to be examined, placing them before God, asking Him to forgive us and guide any wrong doing on our parts. 

With one unexpected phone call seventeen years ago, our lives were devastated  during a spring break ski trip. And every anniversary since has sent up a red flag warning from deep within: “Incoming grief storm!” This spring break, an unexpected phone call replaced the red flag with a white one, an offering of the possibility of a healing reunion in one of my favorite places.

For me, early walks on empty beaches magnify the rhythmic sounds of the waves ebbing and flowing as the early morning light softly enters the day, enabling me to find prophetic gifts the ocean has left behind, speaking quiet instructions to my heart.

Our first morning beach walk was unseasonably cold, requiring layers of clothes and shoes. Being bundled up to minimize the biting cold wind and avoid the chilly water strangely reflected the broken relationship we hoped to mend. As we watched the sunrise break open the day, with its fire of light and warmth caressing the earth, it left nothing untouched. This faithful grace unknowingly prepared our hearts for the imminent arrival of the missing piece of our hearts. 

It was a quiet, gentle reconnection. 

Several hours in tandem on a golf course let things happen more naturally, helping this miracle of reuniting to unfold slowly. Healing medicine can always be found in creation. 

If one has the eyes to see and the ears to hear, God will speak through His creation. 

A day on the beach was filled with moments of digging in the sand, creating castles, and exploring for treasures with grandlittles. Messages of love and laughter were everywhere. Sandy heartprints stamped themselves in the memory chambers of our hearts.

The last morning walk on the beach started earlier than usual. It was dark, yet the air was warm. No more bundling up for protection. No more chilly water. The white sand and water kissed where our feet plodded. The flashlight guided our way through yet another stunning experience. 

Jellyfish had made their appearance on the beach overnight. I marveled at the massive fleets that had overtaken the once smooth, empty shore. Glistening globs of grace everywhere! Dancing to avoid harming them or getting stung, I wondered what our hearts looked like from heaven. 

I looked up just in time to see him dancing too, closer to the sand dunes where there were no jellyfish. I watched this beautiful man of mine dancing with newfound freedom. His steps were smooth and sure, his body moving gracefully as his lips moved. When the dance was over, I wondered out loud, “What were you dancing to?” 

He pulled his airpods out and smiled as only he could, “Stairway to Heaven.” 

“Mmmm mmmmm,” my heart whispered, “Indeed this is heaven on earth.”

That morning on the beach, just as the sun broke over the edge of the earth, my feet washed by the waves in the shallow sand of low tide, the misty breeze blowing on my skin, hungry seagulls singing overhead, the entire atmosphere changed. The soft color of sunrise shifted into a moment of shimmery blue, and then it was gone. But I knew. My heart knew I had just glimpsed God. 

Coming home, we are different. Every trip we take, we come back different. And I hope it’s for the better as God guides and expands our experiences of Him in the different seasons and venues of life. Healing is a forever way of life, one I believe is a given grace to every person if we want to choose it. 

This journey of love has been woven with gratitude for all that has been given once again. Like the waves of the ocean washing over the shore, cleansing and erasing, the waves will sometimes leave gifts… sometimes, an empty shore. This is a visual invitation to begin again, to start over, remembering the forever promise of God’s fresh mercies every morning.

 Our Spring Break has been forever redeemed. 

Never give up on what is broken. Never, never give up hope. Surrender, wait, pray, seek wisdom and discernment, and examine your heart for what needs to be forgiven. Redeeming Love is on its way. We will never know when or how, but we can trust and believe LOVE will come because that is who God is. He will redeem His broken people. We are never alone in our sadness, in our brokenness, or in our lives.  

Reunited… and it feels so good…