There are days where everything feels impossible and overwhelming. Days where the unresolved pressures of life and the endless burdens of worry nearly bury me. These are the times where I find the thief of comparison and memories of past disappointments whispering in my ear. I know to worship and choose joy, but sometimes I succumb to the sorrows of life instead.

Today was one of those days. By 5:30 tonight I was a heap of tears in my husband’s arms. I was sobbing about regrets, fears, and loss – nothing within my power to fix or control. Lest anyone fear, it’s nothing in particular regarding anyone in our family. It’s simply that I seem to finally crawl over one mountain, and before I can catch my breath, another one looms before me.

After the tears faded, Tim suggested we go to the beach. He even convinced me to go on the back of the moped. Just the two of us, driving through the misting rain, heading to the place where my soul finds some peace in this crazy world. The last time we shared a moped we were exploring the Greek island of Rhoades, many years before we became parents. Is this a good idea at our age? Doubtful, but tears weren’t helping either, so off he whisked me to the sunset and the sea.

We parked at one of the beach entrances we don’t normally use. The path from the parking to the beach was messy with standing, slimy water. I could see the water ahead, but the way to get there on this new path was not my favorite. I was suddenly struck by the parallel to my day. At that moment I looked over my shoulder and saw the rainbow. I was headed towards where I wanted to be, the ocean, even though the path was messy and uncomfortable to walk. But above it all hung the promise. Ahead and above – that’s where I needed to fix my eyes, not on the mud I was temporarily trudging through.

We bobbed for an hour in the warm water, soaking up the sea, talking to visitors from Toronto, and enjoying our front-row seat to the greatest show in Sarasota – the nightly sunset. The cares of life were slipping off my shoulders and suddenly I could breathe easier again. We climbed back on the bike as the skies turned a gorgeous bright pink and drove past the restaurant where our son works. We beeped at him from across the street, he embarrassedly waved us away, and we headed home. All felt right in my world again.

I’m not crazy about rides on that moped, but tonight’s adventure was exactly what I needed to reframe today’s heaviness. I know better than to put on the garment of worry and fear, but sometimes it happens. I’m glad to be supported by a partner and family who know how to help me move forward on hard days: take her to the beach, get some saltwater in her hair, sand between her toes, and maybe, just maybe there will be a well-timed rainbow and dazzling sunset to remind her that God’s got it all covered and she should remember to fear not.