Summer::July Part 1:and God saw that it was good...

[Hurricane Irma has been a major disruption, but it's a story for another month--September, to be exact. And though it's technically now fall, I'm determined to resume my summer photo series where I left off at the end of June. It's bittersweet to look back at pre-Irma photos of our Pollywog Creek property, but July Part 1 is all about the beach.] 

July for me began exactly where June ended--with sand between my toes. 

Both the beginning and end of the first week of July were overnights at the beach with family in a lovely stilt house on a royal poinciana lined street a block from the gulf.

Summer days of beach morning glory, white sand, and warm salty breezes. Sandcastles, cousins, sunscreen, and body boards. Board games, card games, pizza, laughter, and a dance party. Blue-striped beach umbrellas and an evening sky lantern launch. Afternoon thunderstorms and those divine, glorious sunsets.

In the days in between, Emily left for Rwanda and Louis experienced what was probably the beginning of a detached retina--a situation that became a reality one month later. But first there was the beach.

God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. 

~Genesis 1:10

If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. 

~Psalm 139:9-10

Carry on...

My beautiful daughter Emily has returned from people and places and experiences that I will likely never know this side of glory. I did little more yesterday than soak up as many stories, photos and videos as she had the energy and patience to share with me. She is still absorbing it all - from Chicago to Kigali to Amsterdam, and airports in London and Nairobi in route. One of her first reflections is that the greater mission field is Amsterdam, and some of her photos (links below) confirm the probable truth of that thought. Some people who know and love Jesus need food and water and clothing, but many people with food and water and clothing need Jesus, and that is most certainly the greater need. Though Emily is still wandering around in the fog of serious jet lag, I'm not letting her get too settled in just yet. We leave early in the morning for Tampa and Women of Faith with Kristin and her sister Brooke, where we will connect with Lizbeth and my neices Sommer and April. And the rhythms of life on Pollywog Creek will carry on without us. Emily's photos from Chicago, Rwanda, and Amsterdam Alex Faubel's Photos from Rwanda 2009

Steady on...

We have received three delightful messages from Emily in Rwanda - each one a gentle massage for those stretched-out heart strings of mine. She is happy and healthy and has fallen in love with the people she has met there, and I suspect that it will be her heart strings that will be stretched when she must say goodbye and leave for home. All the while, the rhythms of life on Pollywog Creek have remained seasonal and steady, and friends and family and the church (and the dentist) have provided just enough out-of-the-house activity for me to keep idleness and loneliness at bay.

Big picture to details...

Captain Hendry's property near the river... ...to our little property on Pollywog Creek.

After a delightful lunch in town today, I drove out to the Hendry House, a historic Florida cracker house surrounded by ancient live oaks near the Caloosahatchee River.

I'd love to explore the Hendry House property again, when I can sweet talk Louis into going with me. I wasn't entirely confident about being there alone today, with too many twists and turns hidden from view. I was thrilled to have the house and property to myself, but a little uneasy, as well.

I'm a bit lost these days with my Emily so far away. It took two days and five flights over three continents for her to reach Kigali - a painful stretch for a mother's heart strings.

I'm grateful for the little glimpses into Emily's days found here, but anxious to hear from her, as well.

Emily's cat Lucy is bewildered at her absence. Lucy's routine has been disrupted and she's been taking it out on me - crying outside my bedroom door and attacking my ankles for no good reason.

I cringe at the thought of wishing our days away , but I can hardly wait for the day Emily comes home...and Lucy stops crying and biting my ankles.