49 by 29: June 30, part 1 - The ocean makes me feel small

Coffee:

16 oz. house blend from Coffeeheads in Alabama. A quiet, colorful shop at the edge of a small pedestrian mall. Friendly barista. Thumbs up.

From the journal:
Since I last wrote, we've hit two more states: Alabama and Mississippi. I liked Alabama; it had a laid back, low key feel, and I enjoyed watching idealic farmlands zip past the window looking sometimes like a checkerboard and sometimes like a zebra.

We have also passed a lot of Waffle House restaurants. And they're always packed. Guess these Southerners like their waffles.

Yesterday we left the campground about 11 a.m., put $60 of gas in the van, and drove along the coast of the Florida panhandle. Breathtaking.

We stopped for a couple hours at Panama City Beach. I put on sunscreen, but my poor, white Wyoming skin still couldn't handle all the rays. I read for a bit but mostly enjoyed people watching and a few attempts at body surfing. I got pounded! One wave pushed me under so forcefully I scraped my hip on the bottom.

The ocean makes me feel small. One wave in just over five feet of water took me under and left me scrambling for air. When I consider wave upon wave upon wave, I am crushingly aware of the vastness of God.

Just imagine if my awareness stopped there, though: A vast, crushing God who leaves me scrambling for air. I am so glad God is a God of love, a God whose love is bigger than the waves, the oceans, the mountains, the sky.

After leaving the beach, we drove to Gulf Islands National Seashore on Perdido Key...one of the lesser known Florida Keys. We camped on the beach and enjoyed a starry night next to a campfire while listening to the rhythmic sound of the tide coming in. We awoke to a beautiful sunrise over the beach.

Is this for real?