It’s not often I have the opportunity to visit the beach.  But a recent family vacation provided ample time to enjoy the grandkids and some quiet reflective time on the sandy shore.  

I love the sounds of the beach — the rhythmic crashing of waves, the whispers of the surging tide as it ebbs and flows, and the squawking of sea gulls flying overhead.

I love the feel of the beach — the ocean breezes, the warmth of the springtime sunshine on my face, and the crunching sand beneath my feet. 

Yet it is the sights that cast me into an overwhelming sense of wonder and awe.  Staring out into the vastness of the ocean before me, I feel small and insignificant — much like the tiny crystal grains of sand beneath my feet.  As I told a friend recently, visiting the beach always involves a good dose of humility. Yes, this is a time when I adhere to the admonishment of Psalm 46:10, “Be still and know that I am God.”  I sense that though I am but one grain of sand among many, there is something or someone bigger than me — there is a God and He yearns for a relationship with me.

Now do not misunderstand me.  No family vacation with eight grandchildren can ever be called a restful-get-away. But I was still able to find a few moments of contemplation to quiet the mind and ponder the significant, the ironic, the mysterious, and even the humorous.

Reflecting on the mysteries of life prompted a few observations and more than a few questions. Here are a few of my current ponderings.

Why doesn’t road construction use oatmeal instead of asphalt or concrete?  There is nothing harder than dried oatmeal on a bowl.  Surely it would last longer than asphalt and be more ecologically friendly.

There is no such thing as retirement…if you are a grandfather.

If there is such a thing as gender fluidity and as many as 100 gender options, why is sex re-assignment surgery limited to two gender options? Or how can a gay person insist that they are born that way but a trans-person declare their gender is fluid and can change over time?

A hallmark of liberalism in the past was free speech, so how can a liberal support the cancel culture?

I am not a book hoarder! I am just planning ahead for when the day comes when I will have 15-20 years to do nothing but read.

I finally figured out why the word “fine” has so many meanings and definitions.  When your wife ends a discussion/argument saying “fine” while gritting her teeth, it usually means that you will pay a “fine” later.

I’d give more credence to the theory of evolution if someone could explain how the human eye evolved.

Living amongst all these Georgia Bulldog fans in my southern home reminds me how they define an atheist in Georgia — as anyone who doesn’t believe in Kirby Smart.

So, if a woman, born female and still identifies as a woman, is called a cis-woman, is there such a word as a woman anymore? If men or women cannot be defined by their DNA, we are in for a world of confusion.

Why isn’t reverse racism, racism?

If a country’s border is “open,” is it really a border?

Black Lives Matter?  Of course, they do!

There are those who think defunding the police will reduce crime.  The irony is that allowing the rule of law to be undermined ultimately drives more criminal behavior, eventually forcing a community to embrace a totalitarian response. Then you have more “police” than you want or need.

A tell-tale sign you are getting old is when your best sleep occurs in your recliner.

It occurs to me that we no longer live in a rational world.  But we do live in a world becoming adept at rationalizing any and all behavior.  Reminds me of what G.K. Chesterton once said, “When people stop believing in God, they don’t believe in nothing, they believe in anything.”  Looks like we have arrived.

When I get to heaven, one of the questions on my list is, “Oh Lord, why didst thou create the mosquito?  And kudzu?”

I am growing weary of news organizations masquerading as journalists.  On one side, we have the liberal left who hyperventilates with acrimonious condescension at those on the right.  While on the other side, we have the conservatives, who, in righteous indignation, push the view that every liberal position is not just wrong but evil. Is there such a thing as journalism that reports unbiased news without a political spin?  Walter Cronkite, where are you?

Bloggers have more friends.  I know that because everyone is so nice to me.  I think they, like my wife, fear becoming “blog fodder.”

A new sexual ethic seems to be emerging.  “Love is love” is its mantra. In contrast to the traditional view that “God is love,” this appealing deception  views sex as an avenue of self-expression and recreation.  All forms of romantic love are equal. I fear “Love is love” opens a box that once belonged to Pandora.  If a man loves two women, is bigamy ok? If an adult loves a child, is pedophilia ok?  If a man loves his dog, is bestiality ok?  If “Love is love” has no limits, what dark hole awaits us?

Having reached my Medicare years, I now understand why seniors describe themselves as “young at heart.”  It’s because the rest of their body isn’t.

We have grown fearful in recent years of pandemics, yet we have been suffering from one for generations, one that has a corrosive effect on our culture.  If America dies, it will be from within, and one of the diseases that threatens us is the pandemic of fatherlessness.  Single moms do the best they can, and despite their heroic efforts, data suggests that kids from single-parent homes make up 63% of teen suicides, 90% of runaways, 85% of behavioral disorder patients, 71% of high school dropouts, and 85% of young prison inmates. Nothing fills the dad-shaped hole in America’s broken families like a dad. Seeing how fathers are portrayed in most TV shows, one wonders if this pandemic of fatherlessness is self-inflicted. But we’d rather debate pronouns.

Pondering such topics sometimes gives me a headache…and a heartache.  I wonder why?

Note: Picture taken during our Spring vacation to a Carolina beach