There's something about the beach that seems to carry so much finality.

As I sit, hands buried deep and toenails filled with sand, I begin reflecting on the past school year. I conjure up memories that will last a lifetime and look at the times where I couldn't see the purpose until after that season passed. I remember the things I was nervous about, the times I was hesitant to trust God, when I was scared, when I hurt and felt broken, when I laughed, when I felt indescribable joy, the friends I've made and the friends I've lost, the characteristics I now have that at one point felt impossible to achieve, the lessons that were hard to learn, the ways God shaped me and still is shaping me, and I remember how I changed from the person I once was, just months before.

As I sit there, looking at the impending sunset, my roommate reminds me that we went to the beach the day before classes in the fall with a group of our friends. My sense of wonderment and nostalgia pair ever so nicely with the sound of the small waves lapping on the shore. I am transported back to a time when I was sitting on the beach, wondering what this school year would bring. I wondered how it would compare to the last. What academia I would try to master. What hardships I would go through. Where I would find happiness. Where God would lead me. How my faith would change. What kind of people I would meet and how they would affect me. What kind of girls would share my living space. If I would figure out my path in life or not. I also reflected on the past summer and keep the memory of it being one of the best close to my heart. That end-of-summer beach outing marked the end of the good that was before, and marked the beginning of the hopeful unknown to come. While the future held so much uncertainty and the past held so much evocative nostalgia, the beach was a silencer that permeated finality while having a season of change strapped to its underbelly.

I am transported back to reality while watching the sun seemingly fall off the edge of the earth and listen to the laughter of some of my floor mates and I watch the clouds change colors before my eyes. As I close out another school year, I reflect on how much I've changed in not only this past year, but these past two years of college. My freshman year was one for the books, I changed so radically and embarked on a life-changing journey. As satisfying as that was at the end of it, for some reason I didn't really prepare for the same sort of change again this year. I expected to be more sure of myself and take sophomore year by storm. News flash, I'm still figuring stuff out and God is not done with me yet! Looking back, I've realized that I've changed radically this year too, but in different ways than before. I'm not sure why this was a big surprise to me but it reminds me that our journeys are never done and we are constantly growing. As I smell the sweet air that brings summer ever so near, I am reminded of the beach's power of finality and the season of change that comes with it. Not that the beach itself has magical powers, but there is something beautiful about how us humans are pulled to the sand and to the water and to the wind during a time of closure filled with new beginnings.

Maybe I feel closest to God when on the beach, maybe I feel most intact with my true self next to the water. Maybe I feel most alive when making new memories on the beach while remembering the old. Maybe I feel most inspired when looking at the sky and feeling the sand. Maybe I love how utterly uncontrived the beach is. Maybe it's the beach for me and something else for you, but I've come to realize how valuable a place of sanctuary is and how meaningful it can be during all phases of life.

Go find your beach.