In Living Color

I watched as he began working.  It was early for vacation – the time when most of our crowd sat quietly under the shade of the beach tents and just eased into the day.  

But not him.  He sat down and he simply began.  His tools weren’t many.  A short shovel, a bucket of salt water, and his hands.  We’d seen him do this before – many times over the years, in fact.  But today he seemed to be on a mission.  An occasional helper would drift in and out, but Karson?  There was no drifting in him.  He just kept at it.

It was our annual “family reunion” beach trip.  For 32 consecutive years now, the Franklin clan has gathered on the shores of a southeastern beach together.  It’s our way of being intentional about investing in our family ties.  It’s grown over the years, but in modern history, we have about 50 kin folks who assemble.  Sometimes it’s a little more.  Sometimes it’s a little less.  But for all who are able, the opportunity is there to lean heavily into the bonds of family.  The Franklins' are the kind of family you run TO when life is hard… not run FROM.  That says a lot really, because it makes no difference if the mess is one of your own making or one that life has unapologetically thrust upon you.  Whether it’s your turn to be the walking wounded or your turn to extend an arm of comfort, there’s a place for you on the beach trip.  We come together and we laugh, and we play in the waves, and we sit in the shade of our tent refuge.  We talk about life and we talk about faith and we watch the youngins play. 

It’s here we find balm for our wounds – the wounds we talk about, and the ones we don’t.  We experience a deep sense of belonging; a sense of tradition and legacy.  It’s not a perfect family, but like the Velveteen Rabbit, it’s a real one.  We’ve had our share of petty squabbles, we’ve said goodbye to members through divorce and hello to babies before brides, we’ve buried our old and tragically our young.  It’s a family that hasn’t necessarily had an easy road, but it has endured.  No matter what the previous year has brought, the Franklins' keep assembling in July on the sand.  We love each other like crazy... in all our messed up glory.

That may seem harsh to you – that mentality that "the show must go on" within our Franklin clan.  No matter what is happening in the world at large, or within the confines of an individual segment of the family, the Franklin Beach Trip occurs.  I choose to find comfort in that.  It’s a picture of faithfulness; a picture of strength.  It’s proof that the thing we’re a part OF is bigger than the part we play.  THAT is comforting.  No individual among us is more important than the whole. 

Last summer, Keaton (whose middle name is Franklin, I might add) was not able to come to the beach.  He was in an Atlanta hospital having seizures every 15 dang minutes.  At that point his cancer was not yet diagnosed, but fear was creeping in to our collective hearts.  Still, the Franklins' gathered.  We celebrated what was good, and we sought comfort for what was not.  Keaton’s absence was NOT.  We had no idea what the coming year would bring.  That’s just what our beach trips are like.

I kept thinking about all those things as I peered over the top of my novel and watched Karson diligently work on his castle.  A friend of mine pointed out that it takes a beach person to understand "dribble castles." The Franklins' understand them well.  Most of us have experienced the wet sand slipping between our fingers as a tower begins to take shape.  It's a rite of passage within our family.

It was getting late in the afternoon and Karson finally took a break.  The castle was enormous!  Passers-by would stop and take pictures or make comments about his handiwork.  Karson wasn’t there to receive the compliments though.  He had slipped away to the condo to retrieve a few more supplies. 

I knew what was coming, and I didn't want to miss a moment of it.  I packed my novel away and grabbed my camera.  The process invoked an awe in me - a sense of reverence. I knew I was watching a master craftsman work.  It was a beautiful sand castle before he began to color it.  

But the color brought it to life.

My mind traveled to a couple of places in scripture that talk about God breathing life. There's that place in Genesis of course, where God breathed life into Adam.  But more so on my mind was that crazy story from Ezekiel.  You know the one... where the valley full of dry bones came to life.

From Ezekiel 37 NLT (various verses throughout the chapter)  "The LORD took hold of me, and I was carried away to a valley filled with bones.  He led me all around among the bones that covered the valley floor.  They were scattered everywhere across the ground and were completely dried out.  - This is what the Sovereign Lord says, 'Look! I am going to put breath into you and make you live again!' - The bones of each body came together and attached themselves as complete skeletons.  Then as I watched, muscles and flesh formed over the bones.  Then skin formed to cover their bodies, but they still had no breath in them.  - So I spoke the message as he commanded me, and breath came into their bodies.  They all came to life and stood up on their feet, a great army.  This is what the Sovereign Lord says: 'I will put my Spirit in you, and you will live again.' "

I will put my Spirit in you, and you will live again. That's the phrase that kept reverberating in my head.

As the castle came to life, I realized God was painting a picture for my soul.  This past year, Keaton technically had life.  He had muscles and flesh over his bones... but the surgeries and the chemo and the radiation, and the unexpected infection… and just the GRIND of a cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment had taken a chunk out of HIM and our collective spirit as a family.  We needed a fresh breath.

So God provided what we needed - that which we couldn't do for ourselves.  As I watched the color come into that castle, I knew I had witnessed a miracle on this year’s Franklin Family Beach Trip.  Last year, as I mentioned, Keaton wasn’t with us.  But this summer – we had the gift of time with him.  He played Frisbee with his cousins.  He played horseshoes with one of his brothers.  (His other brother and a beloved cousin were not with us this year due to the strenuous demands of college life. We'll joyfully take that!) 

He dribbled a few castles of his own.  And he battled the waves in a kayak as fiercely as he had battled cancer in his brain.  

He had LIFE.  Beautiful, adventurous, teenage life.

“I will put my Spirit in you, and you will live AGAIN.”  We are grateful to God for His healing hand on Keaton.   - So is it over?  Is it finally over? 

I have no idea.  But I DO know two things: (1) It's important to thank God for blessings along the journey and (2) This was a Franklin Family Beach Trip that I will remember forever.  Why?  God reminded me with amazing color this year that He is real.  He breathes new life into weary bodies and weary souls.  No matter what the next year brings for Keaton or for ANY of us… my faith in the Giver of Life has deepened.  He’s intensely personal.  He spoke to me in a way I could understand.  He literally painted a picture for me on the sand.  What story did that sand castle tell?  I think it's simply this: Sometimes life is heavy and we find ourselves technically alive, but not really living.  If that’s a statement you can relate to… just hold on.  Hold on to your faith.  Hold on to those God has placed in your circle.  But most importantly, hold on to the power of your God.  He breathes new life.  He colors our world.  He just DOES.