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I replayed the message over and over again to make sure I’d heard it correctly.

“Hi, Teresa. I just wanted to tell you…my daddy died this morning. He was riding his bike and the Lord took him home with a massive heart attack. Just wanted you to know my mother is alone now.”

My dear friend, Bonnie, of over 30 years fought to hold the tears back. I felt her intense pain and the effort it took to verbalize those words. Our history went back to “BK” (before kids). Both of us continued to visit each other once or twice every year. Together, we had weathered teen uprisings, graduations, weddings, and various celebrations. We had worked together, but she now lived in another state.

My husband, Steve, and I had the privilege of staying overnight in her parent’s home on more than one occasion. One such time was while Bonnie and Rob’s house was being built. We made the journey to Pennsylvania just weeks after our baby #2, Amanda, was born. Our baby #1 son (just over a year old) tried to escape through their 2^nd floor screen window in order to avoid napping. Even though his given name is Andrew, his nick name became “Little Houdini.” Over the years, Milton and Dolly offered their 2^nd floor apartment to us to stay while other relatives were in town. Hospitality came naturally and we always felt like family in their presence. Milton died just the way he would have wanted: healthy and doing what he enjoyed.

When I heard Bonnie’s shaky words, my mind went to my own father. The same unpredictable event could happen any day to my own father.

Reality struck me—I needed to make more of a point to keep in touch with my dad. I picked up the phone and called my dad.

All other ground is sinking sand

I needed time away from time clocks and scheduling. Next week would be happily filled with a long distance trip to Minnesota from Michigan. My husband and I were eager to see our two grandchildren and to help our son and family move to another town in Minnesota. But today I needed to come to this oasis to escape chaos and cares of everyday life. Water and the sound of water calm my mind and soul. So I drove to the Lake Michigan shoreline to walk the beach. Just the sound of water exudes peacefulness and a sense of security. In this quiet place, it seems so natural and easy to worship my Creator and spend time in thankfulness and prayer.

A light breeze stirs in the air and plays with my hair. Sea gulls chatter and dive in the waves. A distant mourning dove sings his song of lament. Waves gently lap over countless grains of sand. As I walk along the cool water’s edge and the sand oozes between my toes, an old hymn plays out in my mind:

On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus’ Name.

The water ripples evenly, consistently. You are in the breeze as if to say, “Hello, I am still here—remember me?” Ah, yes, how can I forget You? You have been here for me through trials and blessings. You were near then; you are near now. Waiting for me to communicate with you, pray, mediate, memorize scripture, talk of you, and write of you.

I must tell others of your Divine Mercy, Everlasting Love, and Forgiveness. You are truly Christ, the Solid Rock on which I must stand. All other ground is truly sinking sand.

Hello, this is my 1st experience at Blogging.  My son, Andrew James, just so happens to be my official creator of my 1st Blog site–I’m so excited to begin!