oceanside.

Oh, the deep, deep love of Jesus

Vast, unmeasured, boundless, free;

Rolling as a mighty ocean

In its fullness, 

Over me. 

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Seeing the ocean always reminds me of the timeless hymn by Samuel Trevor Francis. It is one of my all-time favorites--the haunting melody; the soulful words. Somehow, I think that if I were on a ship sinking, that hymn would be the last thing playing in my mind--filling me with peace. To think of Jesus' love surrounding me, as powerful and more powerful than the ocean, is an awesome thing. 

---

On Sunday, our family traveled down to the Oregon Coast to celebrate Mother's Day (my mom loves the beach, and I do, too. Most of the time). It started out just windy + misty, but it turned extremely wet and a bit miserable.

 Nevertheless, there was a wild beauty about the stormy beach (though I can't say the same about my wet and tangly hair). The tarnished clouds moving restlessly across the sky and the choppy waves with their shades of blue-grey looked so moody and free. I managed to snap a few photos before the air became too wet (and then I sprinted for the car, because naturally I didn't bring my camera bag), but the salt air and the billowing misty wind remain uncaptured.

I used to be afraid of the ocean, and I still am, a little bit--especially on days such as this one. I remember, a long time ago--when I was five or six--running in my little girl excitement down the beach beside the lapping surf. Suddenly, I found myself on my back in the midst of the inch-high tide, flailing my arms. I wasn't in danger or anything, but I was petrified. It is one of my most terrifying memories--lying there, helpless, sure that waves were going to cover me and drag me out to sea at any instant.

Then, daddy scooped me up. And I was safe. But that memory has stayed with me to this day. And I shiver a little when I see a stormy ocean. 

---

But summer is coming, when the sea turns blue, the sand warms your toes, and the cotton-flecked sky banishes all storms from the horizon. Yes, I'm all too ready for that, aren't you?

Does your family travel to the beach?

With love,

Lucia 

  

p.s. (have a question you've always wanted to ask? ask me anything here!)

bread and jam

The days are warm at last; the air is mown clean and filtered with sunlight, and I have freckles on my nose. I have raspberry jam on my English Muffins in the bright clear mornings, my afternoons are hemmed with birds singing their little souls to heaven, but I am missing it all (except for the jam + bread. Starving simply wouldn't do.) for...

studying. Yep. I have taken a (yet another unexplained and abrupt) blogging break to study for an upcoming lit. and comp. AP test this Thursday (prayers would be welcomed + loved if you think of me, sweltering in the early morning hours amidst syntax and onomatopoeia and Keats' epics). It promises to be a wonderful day, Thursday does (not). 

But. I have not forgone living (or remembering you all, my friends) altogether, and I have been slowly lapsing back into snail-mailing a few lovely people. It has become a rather lost art for me over the past year or two, and I have missed scribbling 'sweet nothings' to my pen-friends. I am not at all sure I will be able to keep it up, but technology has taken too much of a hold on me. Friends deserve a little time, if they are to be kept at all, I've learned. 

In the meantime, summer's skirts are peaking through the door, while spring's coat is slipping from her shoulders; the days ahead are calling me. All too soon (though I am almost ready to make that, "none too soon"), my senior year will be at an end. It isn't frightening to me; I know God will align my days with the care and gentle patience He always has. 

Are there any other 2013 graduates among us?

With Love,

Lucia 

delicate spring | imagery

Spring is such a gentle season. Here, it arrives when the rains start to warm instead of freeze the ground; when the air begins to smell of freshly mown grass and honeysuckle, and when the cherry trees start to litter the ground with their blossom snow.

I am an epitome of indecision when it comes to naming my favorite season--I find my taste changes as they change, and that is never any good. I love to cozy up to Winter, twirl amidst the Fall, run free with the Summer--but breathing with Spring is such a rejuvenating thing.

I have been taking long bike rides in the evenings as the sun sets behind our country roads. I pedal my green bike up hills and down hills, feeling the wind in my hair, the beautiful ache in my lungs, and the sudden light sprinkles that come from nowhere and only wet my face a little.

Spring is a lovely thing. And it's my favorite.

(Do you believe me? You can for a few more months.)


// xo, lucia