The beach is calling me. It seems obvious that I am not the only one being called by the beach. Many of my friends are heading to the beach. Most of them have already made at least one visit to the endless pool of waters. One friend and her family are going this week, and my sister, the next. I sense jealousy poking me slightly, revealing the deep yearning for the beach. It’s written in my soul. Those countless sunrises and sunsets I witnessed back in Hawaii, the salty smell of Ali’i drive on my commute to work each morning, the feel of the hot sand under my feet, and the sound of the roaring waves– all come back to me like it happened just yesterday. I know my time to go to the beach will come. I wait like a child on a marshmallow test.
The long weekend visit or a even a week-long stay at the beach won’t do much for me. I won’t be fully satisfied until I finally get to go to the beach again with no plan to come back. Just as I did when I left for Hawaii, the beach trip must come with a sense of final destination. I must own the beach. I am not that interested in visiting the beach for a few days. It takes me a few hours of car ride just to get there. It’s an experience I do not want to repeat with a few days’ interval.
I want to go to the beach. When I say ‘go’, I mean the literal meaning of it. Every summer the call of the beach gets only stronger. I’m only waiting for my Creator to unfold this deep yearning inside of me. I finally learn the sweet joy of anticipation. Delayed gratification, my old neighbor K once advised me when I told her I was moving to Hawaii. The decision came a few months after the first seed of going to Hawaii was planted in my heart. I was a marshmallow test failure. I did not know how to wait. As a matter of fact, waiting was the hardest thing for me to do. There was a strong drive inside me, and I did not know how to tame my passionate emotions.
I still lose control. I still let my drive takes me to places. But I quickly recognize my mistake once I stray from my path. I make a u-turn before I go too far. Because now, in the center of all my drives is God, in whom I find my true calling. He is the source of my discerning power. Not my frail mind, not my deceitful heart, not my confused hormones, and definitely not the worldly standards.
So today, despite the strong call of the beach written in my soul, I sit here on my city-side balcony. This is no seaside view. I hear no roaring waves of the ocean. Instead, I hear the roaring sound of the H-VAC units outside each town houses. There are no shells to find on the white sandy beach of Hawaii here. Instead, I stare down at the black and grey cars parked on the paved drive ways. But I am perfectly at peace. Whether I meet my morning at the beach escape or at this dry city-scape, I am content all the same. Because in the center of it all is my God who created the ocean, the beaches, the city streets, the mountains and the small villages. In Him, I find all things and attain everything all at once.