I am the only person with clothes on at this pool.

Literally.

No, this is not a nudist resort.  Everyone is decked in swimwear.

Except me.

I am still wearing the t-shirt and capris that I arrived in because our room wasn’t ready yet.  I look like an absolute middle-aged loser.

If I saw me, I would feel sorry for me.

Mark is in a Genentech meeting (the reason we get to enjoy this wonderful spot) and I have to spend the afternoon, reading, writing, lounging by the pool, albeit, in my clothes.

Violins, please?

It’s a strange thing to be in this setting as a mostly empty-nester.  Complete relaxation and absolutely no responsibilities.

No cute little brown bodies to watch over as they play in the kiddie pool.

No diapers to change or crying children to take back to the room for naps.

Not even any teenagers to keep an eye on as they stroll around in their little bikinis.

I should feel old.

But I just feel….well….really good.

I am free to lie on this lounge chair and take everything in, smiling at the giggling babies who are going into the water for the first time.

I can watch the little boy who is so diligently working on his sandcastle or the little girl who is jumping into her daddy’s arms at the deep end.

Eyes wide open or eyes fully shut if I want.

No schedule or obligation.  Just me and Jesus by the pool, humbled by my surroundings and thankful for the chance to “just be”.

Time to just sit and recount the past weeks and their miracles.

Moments to consider what comes next.

Quiet enough to hear Jesus’ secrets.

Available to opportunities but completely okay with solitude.

This is where my mind needs to be every so often.  My mind AND my heart.  Refuel and refresh.  No pouring in or pouring out, just resting.  Not a single expectation or obligation.

And, yes, I almost feel guilty.

Almost…