Moving to California was absolutely one of the best things that ever happened to me. One of the deepest, richest, kindest, most savory terrestrial gifts the Lord has ever bestowed. For some reason, lately, Monterey has been on my mind. And by lately, I really just mean this week . . . the past few days. And evidently it’s not just on my mind. I saw an IG post from some girl I’ve never met, but follow, and she posted a collection of photos she’d taken in the area and said as much – that Monterey, California is a kindness of God.

God is teaching me something about salt, and I haven’t quite figured it out yet. I happened upon Leslie Bilderback’s beautiful Salt: the essential guide to cooking with the most important ingredient in your kitchen for $2 at one of the general stores out my way. The way she’s structured it helped me realize what I’ve been enjoying about the cookbooks I’ve curated over the past year . . . they are basically an ISTJ’s dream: aesthetic, practical textbooks for everyday and specialized adulthood. So anyways, that happened. I’m still just beginning to work through it. In another lesson I am still unpacking, Papa led me to make a batch of glorious chocolate chip country shuffles, but modified with an additional 1/2 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of Maca powder. They are noticeably malty and more salty than I typically refer. And then I cried last night {not over the cookies, ha} and was particularly impressed by the salt in my tears. He is telling me something and I am quite excited to discover what it is.

I’m sure Monterey has something to do with the salt thoughts {given the sea salt that’s harvested there}, but it was – in its own right – one of those surreal and vivid lens-flared memories I’m blessed to sit with from time to time. Aside from these photos I took when my dear friend and adventure buddy KL took me along with her on a wedding gig, I don’t know that I have very many assessible photos of Monterey; but the images that came back to me like movie reel were of the Calvary Monterey property. Something about the way it felt; that sunlight and the backdrop of California mountains that everyone calls hills. The way I ended up there, specifically, and how small the world felt that day was like one of a thousand kisses to me from God in that season of my life. Good friends I have always wished I could have loved flawlessly, and meeting a woman whose blog I’d followed through college . . . that both she and I ended up three thousand miles away from our homes at the hand of Providence and met in an overlapping season . . . it was one of those moments of God laughing His intricate care for my tender twenty something soul. A soul that has somehow spent a lifetime developing the flavors of the Central Coast – having never stepped foot on its soil or breathed the salt of its air until I was clear out of college.

Which reminds me – perhaps the salt thoughts started with one of the songs I recently posted on Youtube. It’s called Beach People (Psalm 97) and it’s one of my favorites. There’s a lyric in it that sings, everybody breathing salt by the sea – beach people, sing with me!

Today, though, I was listening to a Podcast featuring Ryan Delmore who is born and bred Arroyo Grande. That he and I could have such similar affinities for folky Americana Country music and surfing is something I don’t quite know what to do with. I mean, for him it makes all the sense in the world. But there’s some kind of thread God has stitched me up with that keeps coming across kindred spirits in men with whom I would seemingly have so little in common. He is up to something with me and it feels at times overwhelming. But as a result, I continually learn to stop relying on myself and only on God who raises the dead. He rescues me and He will rescue me again. Oh how great is the Love of God . . . when it gets like this – thick and murky and humid and heavy and hot. He sits me down in the shade of a podcast from some songwriter who kind of stumbled into it like me . . . some disciple of Jesus that is being shaped into a musician and the tension relaxes and I am assured – I’m doing this right. Just keep walking. Just keep following the King. Don’t yield to the loneliness. Do not despair. On Him we have set our hope, that He will deliver us again. God my good Father knows just how to encourage this daughter He delights in.

So maybe when I know what it is He is saying about salt to me, I’ll find myself here with an update and some parable clarity. Or maybe the thoughts on guilt and glory and worship will form enough coherence to turn into a post. In the meantime I will leave you with a playlist I created to celebrate my best friend, King Jesus.

. . . & &

let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person. {colossians 4:6}

4 responses to “salt {pt.two}”

    • Thanks for reading! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I actually moved back to the east coast a few ago, but was reflecting on the time I lived there a while back. I’ll take your hospitality as a ‘welcome back’ when I get a chance to visit again. 🙂

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