The Sands of Time

By: Payton M. Ishmael

My first Mexico morning, I laced up my worn out tennis shoes and took off running into the breath-taking Cancun sunrise. It didn’t take long for my mind to quicken to the sand beneath my feet. Those teensy tiny grains of white powder made my jog at least twice as difficult. I had no complaints, though. I traded my iPod and earphones for the beautiful music of ocean waves crashing. The sand instantly found rest inside my socks. My solution was simply to kick them off and keep running, barefoot. What an incredible workout!

It seems I’ve been spent a lot of time with dirt lately. Just last Sunday, I participated in the Down & Dirty Mud Run; an army-style obstacle course complete with swimming, climbing, and crawling through mud. Although it was a unique experience and I’m glad I participated, I was less than thrilled to douse myself in mud.

Oh how things change! The story is often told of my childhood about a commute home to Canton from Athens on Sunday afternoon. We had just left church and I was safely buckled into my car seat with my young parents. It didn’t take long that I was crying to ride with Anna and Poppy in the car just ahead. Being my parent’s first child, and my grandparent’s first granddaughter, it was very seldom that I didn’t instantly get my way. That being said, my parents pulled the car over and consequently my grandparents did too. After a quick exchange, I was safely nestled between Anna and Poppy so that I could happily enjoy my car ride home. Well, so we thought. Only a few miles down the road, I was crying once again. This time I wanted my mom and dad. I’m uncertain whether they just hadn’t pulled over yet to once again let me switch vehicles, or if they simply weren’t going to let me change again.
I was discouraged, confused, distraught, sad… and an array of other tragic emotions.
“ANNA! Did you see all that dirt?” I exclaimed suddenly.

It took only the big pile of dirt on the side of the road to completely change my way of thinking, dry up my tears, and inspire happiness, smiles, and giggles.
Oddly enough, I was an ultimate tom boy as a kid. Although I enjoyed baby dolls, playing in the dirt was my absolute most favorite. Digging holes, burying silverware, and making mud pies were my idea of a perfect day.

And so maybe the culmination of the recent mud run and my daily beach jogs have taken me back to a place where I have long needed to return. A place where the opinions of people and things around me didn’t matter so much, as the restful peace of enjoying myself and my Creator amidst his creation.

Today, I look fondly at the mud puddles, the sandy beaches, and know that my life-changing pile of dirt must lie just ahead. Maybe it’s time I dig a little deeper.