Myrtle Beach. Detroit.

We have an ocean view from our hotel balcony. Fabulous really. I could live in this little suite if I needed to. We even have a washer and a dryer that doesn’t dry very well—my towels have been drying for about two hours now. We can hear the waves against the shore and smell the salty water from the bedroom when the balcony door is open.

Last night Adam, William, and I took an evening stroll along the beach. The waves rolled in as the tide got higher, and we watched everyone looking for the little crabs that poked their heads up out of the sand. The moon was full, glowing a bright line across the waves. Therapy.

William has never been to the ocean, it has been fun to watch him get so excited about it. As we pulled up to the hotel, he said he felt like he was going to throw up from the excitement. I felt the same way. The ocean makes me quiver a little. I can better recognize that God is God and I am human, because I feel so small and insignificant against the powerful water.


One of my friends keeps politely harassing me about my interest in the welfare of people overseas. His rationale is that we need to help our own before we help others. I agree with part of this: we need to help our own, but I think we can do it simultaneously. Some organizations do this really well, but just for him, I am posting this:jitcrunchBecause I know that so many people in the US need assistance worse than they have since the Great Depression. Americans have come together to support each other before; surely, we can do it again. No?

3 responses to “Myrtle Beach. Detroit.

  1. Glad you are enjoying Myrtle Beach! Where are you guys staying?

  2. the friend in question...

    I love you!
    Glad to hear your enjoying the beach. I am too. Though it’s bloody hot here!

  3. the friend in question...

    And happy birthday to your mom!

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