Quietly, slowly, and ever so softly the pressing persists. Each moment in time a sense of euphoria overruns your mind. So rhythmically the waves lap at you and brush up against your feet. Slowly caressing your ankles before receding back to the sea, before feeling in the footprints left by sand quietly, slowly, and ever so softly pressing through your toes. Gently raising your eyes from here to the horizon, catching the ruby tones racing across the sky, deep violets and ambers pulling you forward, and leading you to something more. Leading your feet that press on, leaving depressions upon the sand, and marks to be seen by those to come.

Against the lapping of the waves upon the sand, the steps you?ve taken become filled ever so slowly with the passing of time and sliding of grains. Slowly the depressions shallow and raise up until the light that is skimming across the water can hardly notice what was there. The waves work over and over the sand behind us, each print left so firmly in the sand. Within minutes the sand is washed over and removed any trace that we were there.

The crimson sky envelops my soul, leading me forward, pressing me onward, and paving a trail for me to follow. The Lord guides my feet and comforts my heart as we walk into the waning stages of the sunlit sky, keeping my mind forward and my eyes open to more than this world. As we walk down the shore, with the water gently lapping at our feet, I notice the reminisce of what was before me, of those who were before me. The miraculous work done that allows me to walk this far, that allow the sand to quietly, slowly, and ever so softly press up through my toes with each and every step I?ve taken.

Around me now, as twilight slowly ascends upon the sky, the shore loses her soft sand and lapping waves. Bringing me to the place where my hands must work, the place where my heart understands, where my mind sees the vision before me, and I am meant to be. We go to work with guidance and strength, pushing forward the shoreline we?ve been so blessed to walk upon. Creating another step today, with sand so soft your hands fall through it as though it didn?t exist.

Working for Him who sent me until the day when my work is done. Then I walk only slightly further into His arms and watch as the next worker comes to the place where the waves had slowly filled in the prints I left, and moved the sand back to where it should rest. Unnoticeably, my marks disappeared, but the work of my hands will remain for an eternity, even if it goes unseen by those who are transfixed upon the setting sun and the glory of the twilight just as I was, and those before me were. And He smiles down upon each new worker.