Skip to main content

The peace of the ocean.



Most of the tourists and locals had headed home for the day as we arrived at the beach. The sun had already started to set, yet we wanted to at least get a little taste of the beach before heading home. It had been a long day of teaching and outreach with children in the community. Stepping out of the car the smell of the sea and beach hit me. As we walked towards the beach we saw the local fishermen with their batches of fish tidying up their nets. It was so peaceful.

Next to the beach was a fresh water lake and as I stepped into it the water was lovely and warm and perfect for a late afternoon swim. The water was clear and it was almost completely still, only interrupted by the ripples made by the kite-surfers practicing before they would brave the forces of the sea.

I swam for a bit before walking to the side of the beach with the sea.

As the sea entered my vision it was a powerful sight The waves were white and frothy, and with the tide coming in it was quite a picture. I stood and watched the sea for a while. I felt it’s force as I dipped my feet in. And yet, with all that force surging through the waves, it made me feel strangely peaceful. The kind of peace that comes when you realize that you are faced with something that is so much more powerful than you are. The peace that comes when you remember that God is God and I am not. The peace that comes from the reminder that God is in control.

And it is with the residue of that peace I sit here writing. I guess residue is not the right word, lingering describes it better. And I hope that the lingering  peace might settle and become normality rather than a moment.

Popular posts from this blog

Taking in the familiar and a heart connected.

Amsterdam. It still has that muggy feeling in Summer, and a constant flow of people which if you stop to think about it, it's quite amazing that there would even be space to accommodate them all. But then I guess they are not all staying. Just passing through on their way to or from somewhere. It's always good for the heart to visit somewhere that was once home. The familiarity of streets and customs makes it easier to embrace what might be new as well as the joy of being reacquainted with old friends. Friends. So many of them to be found in this city, ready with hugs and good words that are uttered when seeing someone who was away again. Friendship. A treasure that cannot be bought. Cobblestones trodden by many, including myself. Sitting on a bench. Praying. Remembering the first time I stumbled upon this area lined with windows with red lights and curtains. An area which has come to represent no longer windows, but people to me. Some still behind a window. Others who have ...

Getting to know the local culture.

Life is a strange thing. Last week went…not much happened, and then it was over. The weekend was quite calm without too many wild and exciting things happening. Except, of course, a wee outing to watch the National Championship for Veteran Ploughing. Now, like me, you might be sadly lacking an understanding of what this actually means. So I am delighted to be able to enlighten you in this respect. It’s basically (for the “farm-language-illiterate” like myself) a competition where you use old (hence the name “veteran”) tractors and ploughs, and plough up a stretch of field which is then evaluated and the one scoring the highest sum (accuracy, depth, how well the soil is turned is all given points) wins. I must admit that this information I got by eavesdropping on a conversation next to me where a man was explaining to some of my friends how it all works. So that was a fun adventure….although we only stayed for a bit. What is sort of occupying my mind at present is my upcoming travel abr...

What was your dream?- scraping the surface of the heart of Albania

“What was your dream when you were 20?” That was a question our guide asked us as we were standing outside a huge derelict cement monument in Tirana, the capital of Albania. We’d spent the day touring and hearing a lot about the history and journey of Albania, a young country with more Albanians living in other countries than in Albania itself. A country where tourism has only really been built up the past 30 years. It was eye opening to hear more of the history, and it made me realise that this country is so much more than meets the eye. A country where the beaches and tourist area of Durres Riviera was packed with tourists, mostly from the Balcan area. A country where hospitality is ingrained in the culture, and where the friendliness of the people was noticeable. After a pause to let us reflect over the question of dreams, for some thinking further back than others, our guide told us that for him it had been to own a pair of jeans. That simple fact said so much. Both of what he...