i joked with my sister this past week that this was a little slice of heaven. and that when we’re there, with Jesus, there will most definitely be a lake just like this. the mountain air will smell exactly the same way. and that white beach-like sandbar in the middle of the lake? that will be there too. i've never seen such a thing til we found this lake last year. this long stretch of sand you can curl your toes into, right there in the middle of this clear water lake. people come from all over the lake on floating docks with motors on them. they bring their umbrellas, chairs, toys, and grills even. and the kids! they can swim, splash, and play hour after hour after hour. and just past the sandbar the water drops off into swimming hole-like deep waters, and we can, right then and there, jump off the back of the dock and submerge ourselves.
for some reason i kept wanting to jump this past week. and i don't mean just jump. i mean jump and fail and shout with each plunge. and then do it all over again. i pleaded with my husband every day for him to take us out one more time on the dock. i guess i could have driven the dock myself but my one attempt to drive the boat ended quickly by the motor shutting off and me not knowing where i went wrong. whatever. but the jumping! maybe it’s because i have been pregnant so many of these past summers and doing a twist and shout jump off a dock wasn't an option. so it was liberating. and kid like. and in the moment. and i love all of those things.
the lake is so far up in to adirondack mountains that you’re just miles from canada. it’s quiet, and even when it’s busy, it’s calm. the lakes houses are sprinkled along the edges, some clustered together and some completely secluded, that’s what ours was this year… hidden and private. and then, even more lovely, are these doll house-like primitive cabins on the tiny island situated just off center of the middle of the lake. i secretly wanted to climb in to them and explore all their little corners. you’re disconnected from all things of the world. a week without phone or internet or traffic or wal mart. it does my soul so much good.
i could live here. i kept saying it all week. and really, i mean it. i could live here, and not only live here but live here and love it. i could enjoy this and i'm not sure if i could ever take it for granted or ever not be blown away by the beauty of it. it’s the simple life. you’d have to drive a good forty five minutes to shop for groceries once a week. there’s only a little slightly-run down IGA here that charges $7 for a pint of ben and jerrys. i know because i love me some ben and jerrys. everyone waves. everyone smiles. and the sunsets blow you away with their pink hues every night.
i’ve always been an ocean girl. the crashing waves, the salty sea, the sticky, sandy, skin after hours and hours of swimming. the feeling that my bed is rocking back and forth when i climb into it at night, from the movement of the water. the ocean air, it's so good. God’s power and might, i feel it so strong there. i feel so close to Him and wonder how i could ever doubt His greatness when i'm at the ocean. i've never felt that strong feeling at the lake, like i do at the ocean, until this past week. maybe, for a while, part of me didn't want to admit that another body of water held a piece of my heart, too. it’s silly really. maybe it was because it’s my dad and husband’s favorite spot to be. and, you know, i wasn't about to conform to their fishing paradises for vacation. but, my love for the lake began to grow, even if i didn't want it to. it grew and grew and grew. and the beauty i saw here this past week is so much different than the beauty i see at the ocean. different, but all together amazing. and the part of me that didn't want to love the lake melted away, and that calm and the clear lake grabbed that piece of my heart and won’t ever let it go.
Psalm 19:1-4 the heavens proclaim the glory of God. the skies display His craftsmanship. day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known. they speak without a sound or word;
their voice is never heard. yet their message has gone throughout the earth, and their words to all the world.