Rejoice in Every Moment By Dr. Colleen M. Arnold

From the time our daughters were babies, we vacationed on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. We rented the same house, No Egrets in Corolla, year after year. It felt like our own summer house, and in fact, until they were teenagers, our daughters thought we owned it.

My husband, Neil, and I sat out on the deck every night. We talked about life, shared our dreams, and made plans like it was New Year’s Eve. One year we came home to Virginia and remodeled our entire kitchen, so it felt more open and beachier. Another year we decided to put in our own pool, so it felt like we were on vacation all summer. Corolla was where Neil encouraged me to write, and I encouraged him to find work he enjoyed. It was one of our favorite places.

The first summer after he died, I could barely face our own house without him, let alone the beach house. The next summer, I felt a yearning for the coast and the sand but couldn’t bring myself to go. Finally came the summer I was ready. I chose to go by myself, so I wouldn’t make anyone else sad if I got mopey, and I stayed at a sweet little inn instead of “our” house.

As soon as I got situated in my room, I headed out to walk along the beach. At first, I was nervous, but gratefully, I didn’t get sad. The waves always make me feel God’s presence, and this time was no different. The wind on my face was refreshing. Gradually I started to see the memories of summers past.

I saw the memory of my oldest daughter strolling dreamily down the beach, her dress and bare legs being splashed as the waves washed in.

I saw the memory of my middle daughter skim-boarding impressively as all the other kids watched with envy. I saw the memory of my youngest building sandcastles and timidly putting her toes in at the edge of the surf as she collected water for her lagoon.

I saw the memory of Rufus, my Dalmatian, chasing sea foam back and forth across the shore, barking at it all the while, not quite brave enough to jump in.

I saw the memory of Neil, laying on his towel in the sand with his shirt over his face, pretending to be asleep so I wouldn’t ask him to do something. Everywhere I looked were more glimpses of my family- different ages, different activities– happy ghosts who made me smile as I saw their shadows. So many memories were spinning around in my head that I felt like spinning, too, right there in the sand, like Julie Andrews on the hilltop in the Sound of Music. I wanted to sing “The beach is alive, with the sound of memories.”

That joy stayed with me for the rest of the trip. It was a precious gift, a celebration of remembrance. I went to the barbecue place and the local bookstore like we always did, but I also started making fresh memories. I visited the nature center and learned about waterfowl - something we never did before because everyone else thought it was too boring. I learned the best spot to kayak on Currituck Sound and walked on the beach at high tide when there was practically no beach left. And through it all, I knew God was at my side, filling my heart with peace.

The closest I got to sad was feeling a little guilty about having so much fun doing just what I wanted. And then I remembered:

Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus (1 Thessalonians 5:18) Whatever time this is for you, dear friends, it won’t last. If you are swamped taking care of little ones, remember someday soon they’ll be grown. If you are mourning or weeping, remember someday your heart will heal. If things are going great, chances are that won’t last either.

So whatever time it is, give thanks, and rejoice, for God is with us in every moment.

Dr. Colleen Arnold is a family physician in Lexington, VA. She is also a widow and mother of three young adult daughters. She enjoys hanging out with family and friends, taking care of her patients, writing, walking, and working on her blog at https://colleenarnold.org/ You can also connect with her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ColleenArnold.Author

Dr. Colleen Arnold