Beach Reflections
Ever lie on a beach staring up at the stars at night? They always seem bigger and brighter near the ocean. I’ve been rereading Psalm 19 and can just imagine David, leaning back, looking up into the starry darkness over Bethlehem, disappearing into the vast expanse of it, then penning the words to his latest song:
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.
We enjoyed a beach vacation with friends in early February, before any COVID. It was just what the doctor ordered. Unlike my wife, I burn rather than tan, but I did enjoy casual hours of lounging beneath a thatched umbrella, sipping Schweppes Ginger Ale while scanning the horizon.
There aren’t many options while sitting on the beach, and that’s exactly the point. You rest, read, watch and talk, and eventually, everyone walks the beach. And as they walk, others will watch.
From my shaded space, I watched four people slowly saunter up the beach. They’d stop, face one another and, quite animatedly, point at things in the sand. They’d laugh at the waves’ edge, moving together as a unit. They were obviously friends, yet something was different. I stared curiously, and then it clicked—they were speaking in sign language. They must be deaf.
“Wow, that’s cool!” I thought, now watching with even more interest. So happy they were enjoying the surf and sand like everyone else, yet differently, I suspect. I tried to imagine what their silent experience must be like. Was it much different from my own?
I figured they couldn’t hear the whistle of the wind past their ears, but they could feel its effect on their faces, same as me. They wouldn’t hear the thunder of the waves, or the cry of the gulls overhead. But they could certainly feel the power of the crashing breakers, and the passing shadows of gulls upon the sand, the same as me. They were having a shared experience, where mine was more solitary. I never dreamed that a few weeks later I’d be forced into a life of isolation and confinement.
Hellen Keller once said, “Blindness cuts people off from things, while deafness cuts people off from each other.” If that’s true, I think we’ve all experienced a kind of deafness in these days.
That wasn’t the case for this group of friends. No, their isolation drew them together. I watched curiously the whole week, whether on the beach, at dinner, or walking about. They were always in a conversation that no else heard. They walked slowly, connected, drawing no attention to themselves.
Presently, I watch masked people go about their business in a muffled and shuffled way. Everything about their lives appears closed off and at a distance; what an abnormal experience.
There are no barriers to God's ability to communicate with us
I ran across a story that freshened my hope. You know, one of those “human interest” news reports, the kind that fills and renews your faith in humanity. A community demonstrated their love for a deaf child by acting collectively.
Samantha, a profoundly deaf 3-year-old, enjoyed taking walks with her parents in her neighborhood, but loved meeting people most of all. She would approach, trying to connect the only way she knew how, signing the simple words that she had learned. “She has a super engaging personality,” her father said. Yet most of their neighbors were at a loss. “It’s so precious, but I just don’t know how to communicate with her,” they’d say. But then something beautiful happened, something quite unexpected. The neighborhood took it upon themselves to hire an instructor and immersed themselves into learning American Sign Language. It didn’t take long before the entire community was signing with Sam and her family. Today, her walks are filled with happy exchanges. Exchanges with people who love her, and can now say so in a way they couldn’t before.
Watch the report here if you like:
https://www.cbsnews.com/news/newton-massachusetts-sign-language-community-learns-sign-language-for-deaf-girl/
These are the days to look for exchanges with people that we didn’t have before.
God is the ultimate translator. He takes it upon Himself to communicate. In these interesting times He’s in the mood to talk. Extended times away, at a beach or in the backyard, can bring clarity. Whether gazing at the stars or the horizon, the ultimate Translator realigns His truth in us, if we let Him. There are no barriers to His ability to communicate, so relax.
When the voices of isolation and polar opinion resound, let God’s simple kindness interpret for us all, for when love breaks barriers it’s always the story to tell.
What story are you experiencing? What stories are you telling?