The wind howled, whipping my hair into a frenzy as I stood on the familiar shoreline of Sherwood Island State Park. It was one of the windiest days of the winter, yet there I was, drawn by an unseen force to this place of memories from my young adulthood, offering me once again a refuge I desperately needed.

Suddenly, tears welled up, hot and heavy. Tears for George, for the loss of a dear friend, for the fleeting nature of youth, and for the profound absence of my son, gone too soon just over four years ago. It were as if my defenses had crumbled, leaving me raw and exposed to the harsh winds of life.

The release of pent-up grief became a cleansing storm, mirroring the fury of the wind around me. And then, nearly an hour later, something shifted. Exhausted, but paradoxically refreshed, I looked around. The wind still raged, but the world seemed sharper, more vibrant and my senses heightened, my heart open to the raw beauty of life.

In that moment, faith wasn’t about words or doctrines. It was about the wind in my hair, the sand beneath my sneakers, the immensity of the ocean stretching out before me. It was about feeling fully alive, without restraints or judgments, simply existing in the present moment.

As I returned to my car, three small, smooth, white stones caught my eye, each one whispering tales of the sea. They were like perfect replacements for the missing ones I’d left at my son’s gravesite – the ones inscribed with our family’s names, now likely swallowed by the earth. Clutching the newfound stones in my palm, I carried them back, already picturing them marked and repurposed. It felt like a symbolic victory, a reclaiming of strength after weathering the storm.

I realized the wind still felt strong, however there was a lightness to it that intensified my sense of victory. I had faced my pain, embraced the rawness of life, and emerged feeling more connected, more alive than ever before. The beach buoyed me up as it always had and reminded me that even in the midst of grief, life persists, an ever-changing evolution, ever-renewing, just like the tide rolling in and out, forever constant, forever powerful.

Remember, your faith may not look like someone else’s, but it doesn’t make it any less valid. Trust your own journey, find solace in the unexpected, and know that you are never truly alone.

All rights reserved. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from the author is strictly prohibited.