The familiar sound of waves breaking against the sand fills my ears - forever rhythmic, calming, and with a hint of danger. Palm trees sway gently along the cliffs and brightly colored shops attract a passerby's perusal. Restaurants cater to the Western palate, serving fruit smoothies, granola, and chicken sandwiches alongside Indian favorites such as tandoori chicken, nan bread, and spicy curries.
I am on a beach in South India. I never would have expected to be here, but I am glad that the journey God has me on has led me to Varkala, India. After an overnight train ride (an experience in itself!), several other teachers from Hebron and I arrived in Varkala in the early morning. As we settled into a restaurant balcony overlooking the ocean and received our orders of fruit salad, muesli, and yogurt, my soul gave a sigh of contentment. I have always found it easier to walk with God when I am in a beautiful and visually rich place, and Varkala, with its cliffs and rocks and ocean and sunsets, has been just the place I needed to relax, refresh, and reconnect with my God.
Today I went for a swim in the Bay of Bengal - becoming the 5th or 6th ocean I have gone for a swim in. It tasted very much like the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Ecuador. All salty and sandy and fishy. I have so many fond memories of playing in the ocean as a child - riding the waves on inner tubes, building sandcastles, hunting for shells and jellyfish, and watching the sun set below the fiery waves. The ocean has also earned my respect, and I have a healthy fear of large waves from an almost tragic beach accident when I was 12. Thinking about that accident brings my dad to my mind, since he saved my life on those rocks long ago when the ocean was trying to drag me away. I miss my dad. Seems like I can't go anywhere without thinking that it would be better with him along.
I miss him bringing along his favorite hammock to string from two handy palm trees. I miss him ordering new things in a restaurant, just to try them. I miss him sitting on a porch in the early morning, watching the sunrise with an orange juice in one hand and his well-worn Bible in the other. I miss his creativity when finding new ways to play with the ocean - we had many hours of fun in inflated truck-tire inner tubes that he never forgot to bring along! I miss his friendliness when dealing with hotel staff, restaurant waiters, and everybody he came in contact with along the way. It seemed like he would instantly have friends everywhere we went. I even miss his rather wacky style - floppy hat, fluorescent pink or green shorts, and glow-in-the-dark Dad legs.
Yes, being here on the beach makes me miss my wonderful, unpredictable, adventurous father. Thank you Lord for fond memories, for a life-giving Dad, and for sunny beaches that soothe my aching heart.
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