This weekend I was privileged to be invited by my son and his wife to her hometown in Florida. Her parents live in a beautiful condo neighborhood that sits up against the Intercoastal Waterway. As we looked across the waterway, we see million dollar mansions…perhaps billion dollar mansions. One of the mansions belongs to Rod Stewart.
On the back side of these mansions is the Atlantic Ocean. Since beaches are public, the billionaires build guest houses across the ocean view highway so they can have a little bit of privacy on the beach.
I got to see fishermen, surfboard wannabes, very physically fit runners (my legs ached after just walking a few hours in the sand). There were wealthy old couples taking a walk holding hands, little children trying to dodge the waves, and of course the beautiful teen girls bearing (almost) all to get that perfect tan.
It has been my dream for many years to live by the sea. I don’t really want a mansion, just a place I can soak up some sun and enjoy the peaceful sea air and waves.
I don’t believe the Good Lord is a genie. I know He answers prayers, but I have no idea if He will grant me my dream.
Having CPTSD is I suppose my little bit of hell on earth, and my hopes and dreams to be by the ocean day in and day out are very real.
However, I remind myself this is not my home. I have a home that isn’t part of this world. It is a home in Heaven with my Heavenly Father.
One person that I clean for monthly passed away this past weekend from Covid. He’s headed to his eternal home now. I also clean for his childhood friend who could die any day because her intestines are literally dying. Once they are gone, she will be gone. I’m never promised another day with her. One thing she loves to tell me is that she can’t wait for heaven. She doesn’t care about seeing all those who went before her, she just wants to sing praises to our Creator.
I do hope I will be able to save up and have my house by the sea. But even if I don’t, I have a better home waiting for me.
God bless.
Preacher’s Wife 