Kansas is a long ways from the Atlantic.
But we’d packed and prepared and prayed and looked forward to departure with much anticipation and expectation.
We’d flipped through honeymoon pictures and remembered and we mapquested and traced routes on a real map.
We’d lined up pet-sitters and buttoned things at home up as best as could be and we departed.
Atlantic or bust.
Neither one of our kiddos had ever been to the Atlantic. Neither one had ever seen the ocean that they could remember. Renae was to the Pacific when she was two, but when you are just a small, toddler girl, you don’t remember being there.
And as we drew close, excitement surged. To come back again. To bring my children. To introduce them to this part of God’s creation. To smell the salt in the air and to taste the seaspray. To watch those waves roll. To experience the immensity of the ocean. So happy.
Landlocked Kansans meet the Atlantic.