There's more...

Her hair was white as winter snow--white as the petal of a spring daisy. And her granddaughter all of three wanted to swing. So this white-haired grandma hugged her grandbaby girl tight and did the best she could to lift her high--her body not as strong as it once was. The toddler wiggled her legs in the swing--snug. "Push me. Higher. Swing me higher." And catching her breath, with one touch of her wrinkled hands, her baby girl took flight and her brown curls danced in the summer wind.

The minutes on the clock is ticking away--it's almost time--at least that's the prediction on the Weather Channel. Sunrise. 6:05am. And there are several of us out here waiting. Phones. Cameras in tow. There's this one man and he spreads his towel close to the water's edge and he waits. There's no phone in his hand--no camera. He sits for a few minutes soaking in the beauty and he eventually takes his phone from his pocket and captures the sun's rising beauty and then puts it away. And I think to myself, he gets it. He's not here for just a perfect photo. He's here to witness a perfect gift from the kindness of a good God.

He made his way to the top for a little while and sat there--still. And then he came back down and found a seat next to the climbing wall. I walked to where he was and asked if he was tired--didn't feel well? He answered, 'No, he just wanted to relax and watch the others.' And it wasn't long until two littles on the playground made their way to where he sat and shared with him the treasures of friendship and special rocks.

The tent of burgundy was up--wooden chairs all in a row and a mound of dirt freshly dug nearby. The gaping dark hole in the earth open and the sun beat down in what was left of the morning hours. And under that graveside tent sat one man, alone--on the back row. Waiting. Had he come early--come to pay his final respects? Say his earthly good-bye? Was he sitting quietly in prayer? Or maybe his hands were the hands which touched each chair--or was it his hands that labored--still stained with soil--preparing this sacred resting place.

Her face was at a distance, but her words rang loud against this mountain of rock. "Heaven!" Her voice yelling out in praise. "This is absolutely heaven!" And there's birds floating effortlessly in the air above and around the rock mountain-- their shadows--close in tow. Yes. Heaven. So close.

There's something about seeking God and seeing Him in the beauty of ocean sunrises and sunsets. Landscapes and majestic mountains and giant rocks and waterfalls that reach from heaven to earth. Flowers that create the most intricate of blooms. And with all of that seeking--searching--seeing His creations, being in breathless awe--there's still even more...

She came bouncing on the sidewalk walking alongside her husband. She wasn't hard to miss. Tall, lanky--an older woman with a morning mission. I would say she's a five-miler every morning if I had to guess. The introvert in me wanted to look the other way as she got closer, because of her less than friendly before 7am beach time face. But there was just something about her. And as she got closer she glanced my way --her eyes locked to mine. And then it happened. She threw her entire arm up in the air and greeted me with the biggest of smiles followed by a pleasant good morning.

Dear God, for every time I have missed seeing You in others--for every time I have looked the other way or chose to busy myself rather than taking the time to truly see You in Your most loved creation--I'm sorry.

Genesis 1:27

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him;

male and female created He them.

Psalm 139:14

I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works;

and that my soul knoweth right well.