This past fall we drove fifteen minutes to the beach for our son to soak in salt water before he had to return to landlocked Tennessee later that evening. The skies had withheld rain for the past month, so the Gulf of Mexico waters were like liquid glass.
We noticed a stirring in the water a yard from the tideline. “Mantas,” our son called out. We sprinted to see a pair of black manta rays racing parallel to the shore, their flapping wings causing the ripples and splashes that we had noticed. They curved into deeper water, joining a group of six or more, then looped back to skirt the shore again.
We ran alongside them, digging our toes into the chilly, wet sand, and attempted to tap photos. Visitors from out of state spotted the spectacle and called out to each other, “You gotta see this.”
When the sun melted into the water, we gave up but waited until the first star appeared before heading back to the house. The minute we walked through the back door, I realized that my glasses had fallen out of my coat pocket on the beach. We didn’t have enough time to return to the beach before our son’s plane departed, and it was too dark to look even if I had returned.
The next morning, I drove back to the beach. Cresting the hump in the boardwalk, the water blinded me with its glittering brilliance. “It’s so gorgeous,” became my mantra. I couldn’t stop saying it. The water’s beauty filled me to the point that I ached. I yearned for a companion to enjoy the sight and to validate that it was, indeed, spectacular.
The sand was still churned from the weekend’s footfalls, and I feared my glasses were buried, crushed, or hidden in a divot of sand. I scanned back and forth, retracing my steps from the night before and my elation waned with the realization that finding my glasses would be impossible. I sent up a half-hearted prayer.
With God, all things are possible. Those taped up boxes of moments or knotted sacks of hopes, God often opens them when we least expect it.
I looked down and saw my glasses.
Like the manta rays from the night before, like the sequins glittering on the water, I wanted to yell, “You gotta see this!” I wanted someone to join in my joy, doubling my pleasure in the act of sharing.
God designed us in His image, and as he enjoys perfect fellowship with the other two persons of his godhead, we desire fellowship. We need fellowship. The need for community is built within our DNA.
John 15:9-11 says,
“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love. If you
keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s
commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in
you, and that your joy may be full.”
English Standard Version (ESV) The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers
Describe a joyful moment when you scrambled to share it with someone else.