05/29/2026
Have you ever stood in front of the ocean at night, sat down in the sand with your dress slacks on, taken off your shoes and socks, removed your tie, laid back and closed your eyes, and let the truth of the moment settle over you? The kind of moment that makes everything slow down. You’re just sitting there, listening to the water, feeling the sand under your feet, and realizing that some places have a way of reminding you that life is still bigger than whatever you walked in carrying.
We had driven out to support someone who needed help. We thought the trip might be stopped by the abuser, but it wasn’t. It was stopped by the abused. She wasn’t ready. My volunteer was angry. We had come a long way, and in that moment, frustration got the best of him. I understood the feeling, but I also knew we couldn’t let our disappointment become another weight on her chest. So I pulled him to the side and told him to take a walk. For some reason, that was all he needed. He self-corrected. He came back different. He apologized and told her we would return whenever she was ready.
Since we were already there, I suggested we stop by an ocean neither of us had visited before. It felt like meeting a new friend with an old soul. Like God had carved out a quiet place in the middle of all that chaos and said, “Sit here for a minute. Let the water speak.” Then we decided to go back and ask her if she wanted to join us. Surprisingly, she said yes.
What began as a quick turnaround became three adults sitting in the sand, laughing, crying, talking, and watching the sun go down over the water. Just three people, bruised by life in different ways, sitting at the edge of something bigger than themselves. Then, out of nowhere, she looked at me and said, “I don’t need to go back home to pick up anything. I don’t want any of it. Can you take me with you guys?” My volunteer and I looked at each other, grabbed our shoes and socks, and piled into the car.
He asked her what made her change her mind. She said, “While we were sitting there talking, I remembered something. One time, he kept dunking my head under the water while I was taking a bath. He must have kept doing it for two or three hours straight. I remember thinking the next time he pushed my head under, he wasn’t going to let me back up. I miscarried after that.”
“Listening to the waves tonight made me realize he has taken everything from me. Some days I don’t even care because I feel like, what’s the point? But I haven’t felt this good about myself in such a long time. I love the beach. I live so close to it, and he hasn’t let me come here in years. Right now, I feel like myself again. I can feel my face smiling, and it makes me smile that I’m smiling.” And that made all of us smile.