I still see you.

The jagged, grey stone jetted out into the ocean deep, and reached to the sky as if it longed to return to its home in outer space.  To my limited lunar knowledge, it looked as if it had spent a few million years orbiting earth, but the calcified stones and fossilized shells suggest it had been present on earth for quite some time.

The pink and grey tones of the volcanic cove were revealed at the base of the gigantic structure each time the ocean  pulled back like a slingshot to launch the next wave at the awe-invoking rocks.  It was a sight unlike anything I've ever seen, and with each pull of the tide, I found my chest empty of breath and word.  

I imagined this is what the world looked like at creation.  The land and the sea, the rock and the waves.  No sound aside from the violent crashing of water upon the enormous rocks protruding into the ocean.

As one of the waves crashed below me, it sprayed up the thirty-foot cliff and landed at the back of my feet. "I haven't forgotten you," whispered the Lord.  "I still see you. You're not out of my reach."

Without even anticipating it, the Lord's sweet words were more refreshing than the seaside breeze on a hot, Haitian afternoon.  He's so good to remember His children, always.