Yesterday
A happy memory of my five years as priest at St. Thomas by the Sea is being a block from the Gulf of Mexico. My office opened to the outside and the door was frequently hooked open for the salty air and breeze. And the sound of the sea, which some days could be deafening, being close enough to hear individual waves crashing ashore. Opening to the upstairs front porch, my bedroom here has the same advantage of salt breeze, though coming four miles across St. Andrew Bay the roar of the surf is muted and distant. Just so this morning.
Yesterday’s weather was intermittently stormy and the Bay choppy, but we made our journey. Five to seven foot seas in the Gulf discouraged that trip, so instead of going outside we made the inside run down to the Old Pass, getting as close as we could in shallow water and cold rain to cast ashes. Just as well: inside was the route Annie & Jennie sailed to the Old Pass that last night January 7, 1918.
Walt, Joe, John, Megan, Jack, James, me.
Psalm 139 Domine, probasti
O LORD, you have searched me out, and known me. *
You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thoughts long before.
You are about my path, and about my bed, *
and are acquainted with all my ways.
For lo, there is not a word in my tongue, *
but you, O LORD, know it altogether.
You have beset me behind and before, *
and laid your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful and excellent for me; *
I cannot attain unto it.
Where shall I go then from your Spirit? *
or where shall I go then from your presence?
If I climb up into heaven, you are there; *
if I go down to hell, you are there also.
If I take the wings of the morning, *
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
Even there also your hand shall lead me, *
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, Peradventure the darkness shall cover me, *
then shall my night be turned to day.
Yea, the darkness is no darkness with thee,
but the night is as clear as day; *
the darkness and light to thee are both alike.
TW+