🌊 Finding My Peace Again

I didn’t come to the ocean searching for anything.
I just needed to breathe—
to step away from the noise, the pressure, the weight I’ve been carrying so long I almost forgot it was there.

But as I stood there, barefoot in the sand, letting the waves pass by like time itself, something inside me began to shift.

I prayed—not with fancy words, just with truth.
Tired truth.
Honest truth.
The kind of truth that aches in your chest and rolls down your cheeks when no one’s looking.

And in the rhythm of the waves, I felt it.
Peace.
Not the kind I have to chase or earn, but the kind that just is.
Like it had been waiting for me to finally slow down and listen.

It felt like God met me there—not with thunder or lightning, but in the soft hush of the wind, in the pull of the tide, in the calm after all my storms.

I realized I’ve been carrying so much grief and pressure and expectation… trying to be strong, trying to be “okay.” But out there, with the waves washing over my feet and the sky stretching wide above me, I felt a different kind of strength. A quieter one. A gentler one.

And I remembered—
Peace isn’t something you force.
It’s something you return to.

So here I am, returning.
To myself.
To God.
To stillness.
To peace.