On the beautiful pink sands of Eleuthera, we watched storm clouds roll in, and though we knew they would soon bring heavy rain, we ran into the surf anyway.  Venturing out further & further into the world renowned waves, we laughed much too loudly like the college girls we were.

I dipped underneath, and got caught.  A surge pulled me under again and I choked till my lungs were full.  I would struggle to pull up and my girl friends thought I was just goofing off.  It wasn’t until they saw my sincere panic that they ran out to try to snatch me back.  After a half-dozen tries, they managed to loose me from the undertow, and I fell onto the beach, sputtering and crying.  The fat raindrops came shortly thereafter, and we left.

I’ve never had a physical experience like that before…where I was so overcome so quickly and so out of control.

But it happens to my heart quite often.

Tonight I took a golden-hour trip to the local grocery, letting my stroll through each aisle slow to a shuffle.  I had no one to hurry home to.

I stopped at the Mass Ave Starbucks, eyeing everyone sitting outside relishing the sweet weather.  Grande hazelnut decaf cappuccino with extra cinnamon  in hand, I pushed the door open and wandered back outside.
No one to sit and sip with so I rolled the windows down and drove.

I carried in my paper bags, turned on Bliss, Ben Harper, & Brian McKnight while I put away the organic eggs and the blueberry juice and the mission figs.

As I pared  the green tops off a dozen or so strawberries, the surf swallowed me whole.

I wish I had someone to grocery shop with, someone who’d know just how many dashes of cinnamon to sprinkle before we’d sit & sip, someone to slice the strawberries for.

That rush of longing can cause even the most steady of empty hearts to lose control.

Two Sundays ago… my love song with God played, and I held one hand up as if to touch His face and held one over the heart I thought might leap out of my chest at any moment… On my tiptoes, face upturned to heaven I echoed Horatio’s soul-breaking cry “And Lord haste the day when my faith shall be sight…” and swayed as I swooned.

And so, while I might sometimes say without much thought that I’d like my ever-tender heart to buck up, toughen up, or grow up… that I’d rather not ache over empty evenings or my empty bed… that I’d rather not fear my mouth whispering the words of wanting to be kissed deeply all on it’s own sometimes… that I wish simple strawberry moments would not to pull me under… how could I?

I wouldn’t want a heart that didn’t wait in anticipation, that didn’t relish the romance of just another Tuesday, that wasn’t willing to stretch herself out and sing while acknowledging Him slipping back into His rightful place… that wasn’t willing to feel the rush of Him pulling…

& drown.

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