Musing on DEEP S*gar.

Musing on DEEP S*gar.

Help.

I can’t run.

Waaaa. (That’s supposed to be a baby cry.)

So hubby and I went walking while at the beach. We even talked about walking a marathon together.

I think this would be equivalent to a year’s worth of marital counseling. Walking a marathon together.

Any who.

We got to a point where the water looked too deep to cross. Now it wasn’t like a Western Movie where the horses were straining to keep their bulging eyes above  water — but it was close to getting your clothes wet kind of deep.

It’s March at the beach in Georgia. Cold water.

No sirree.

A runner came along side. We all took off our shoes…and I waded in.

No. I had to turn back.

We all were going to turn back when my husband said, “I think that looks more shallow up there.”

Runner guy jumped in and tip-toed across…

I followed…

I made it.

We all made it.

Sometimes you just have to follow the tip-toeing red-headed runner dude

when God places him as your guide

and everything works out.

Albeit now there’s a little more grit in your socks.