driftwood

I finally got to wear my hoodie today while surfing. I may have looked like a complete moron, but I was nice and toasty in that thing! $10 well spent. Bob called me little black riding hood. The only wave I rode was the "party wave" (the last wave of the day when we decide to go in). We went out with a second time surfer, and Greg Barker and it was a brutal morning. The other guy was a fit dude, and it secretly made me feel good to see him so tired after paddling. It reminded me of the beginning of my surfing career and how dog tired I got. Finally I am more experienced and in better shape than someone else! Yippee! On one wave I paddled into it and was too far inside, so I got pummeled by the wave. I swallowed so much sea water while I was down, I came up coughing my lungs out. The waves were pretty frequent today, and didn't allow for much recovery time, so I had to get out of the water like a wimp and get my bearings before going back out. Because the wind was blowing so hard, we ended up drifting about a mile down the beach. When we got out of the water, we had to walk back about 15 blocks to our vehicle. It reminded me of the song "Driftwood" by Travis:

Everything is open nothing is set in stone

Rivers turn to ocean. Oceans tide you home

Home is where your heart is but your heart had to roam

Drifting over bridges never to return

You're driftwood floating underwater.

Breaking into pieces, pieces, pieces.

Just driftwood, hallow and of no use.

Waterfalls will find you, bind you, grind you.

And you really didn't think it would happen,

but it really is the end of the line.

So I'm sorry that you've turned to driftwood,

But you've been drifting for a long long time.

I felt like driftwood today in the water being turned over and grinded by the waves. As I was walking I noticed all the different feet patterns in the sand. Bare feet, tennis shoes, surf booties (with the deer hoof look), and bird claws. Are you a person who walks in the footsteps of others or do you make your own set of prints? It reminded me of being back home in the winter time and having to trudge through the snow on a sidewalk that hadn't yet been shoveled. I'm the one who steps into the footsteps of the previous walker to avoid getting too snow covered. When it comes to the watery sand at the beach, I prefer my own path, but when the sand gets deeper and harder to walk through, I try to walk in the tire tracks of the grading tractor, and in other peoples footsteps to ease the walk a little. Perhaps that says something about the second letter in my Myers Briggs.

Anyway, enough babble. I leave for Mexico in the morning, so I've been frantically packing all the crappiest clothes I can find. I didn't bring things with me to destroy, so thankfully Amy and Jane have been lending me all the stuff I need for the trip. I'm only packing the items on the list, and already my bag is full. So much for trying to pack light. When I get back on Wednesday, I'm preaching at the Maundy Thursday service, and will have less than 24 hours to pump out a sermon, so I've been trying to get a head start on it before I leave. It's not working. I have maybe 5 minutes worth of material, and a 25 minute slot to fill. Maybe it'll come in Mexico.