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Janet Chester Bly
We returned recently from a trip to the Oregon coast. We rented a house there via internet, not only for ourselves, but also for family members who would meet us there. On the way, we got nervous about what we’d committed to. “What if it’s a junker?” “What if the beds hurt our backs?” “We’re so looking forward to rest and refreshment. What if . . . ? What if . . . . ?”
We followed the directions to the place. As we got out of our truck, opened the gate, and entered the yard, a splay of sun-rays burst through the coastal fog. I ran back and got my camera and shot these photos. Good thing. The wonder moment didn’t last long and never returned during our stay. We considered this a sign from our heavenly Father that he was here, that this was a good place for us to be. We embraced his grace for that whole week.
In the cliff-side house we stayed in, we navigated steep stairs, but enjoyed glorious landscaping with numerous footpaths. . .a mini Buchart gardens, we called it. The upstairs bathroom was smallish, but several of the other rooms displayed full-length windows overlooking Agate Beach. We spent hours with jigsaw pieces and evening movies. We read, toured the region, collected beach treasures, watched the tides. One of our crew did suffer a nasty fall. Not free of mishaps. But there was plenty of laughter and comfy space for all of us. And, yes, we slept well on the just-right mattresses. An excellent vacation spot.
Now that we’re home, we continue to look for splashes of sun, even if it’s cold or foggy or sad news intrudes.
