The last day of our time near Miami, Florida. We are grateful for all the adventures great and small, difficult and enjoyable.

I sit in the lobby of the hotel named for the city that gave it birth: Hollywood, Florida. The weather today is in between that of yesterday (cloudy and rainy) and the day before (warm and sunny). Today so far it is just cloudy and cool. A hotel lobby is the perfect place to observe a vast cross section of humanity and to hear their stories as they check in and check out. Of course, we are all hoping for the same miracle that happened the first day when a cool and cloudy forecast gradually evolved into a tropical paradise. But we are preparing for other possibilities.

A few key factors figured into our choice of accommodation. With a family of five, cost needed to be kept low. We chose the general area (as we often do) according to where the Russians like to go, and they tend to value cost over comfort as well. Looking at Hollywood, the closer you are to the beach, the higher the cost. But the last thing you want to do is save $100 a night on a room and have to deal with renting and driving a car. In fact, why drive at all? Unless forced otherwise, we find it is always better to move around on foot or by some form of public transit. The principle object of this trip is to soak in the life of the beach.

So we found Hollywood Beach Suites & Hotel to be not too expensive by beach standards, but still more than we are used to spending for accommodations elsewhere. The particular room we booked bears the imprint of the hotel’s inception in 2009 as a hostel. According to one of the ladies at the front desk, the original vision of the owners was to provide an inexpensive, no frills place for young adults to enjoy Southeastern Florida. But the American hostel ethos (and not the European) overcame this goal of peaceful community as degeneracy ran the place down. Now the name “hostel” has been expunged from almost all forms of advertising and replaced with “hotel and suites”.

The suite designation is what caught my attention as this is what we gravitate towards: a place to stay where we at least have the possibility of making our own food. At most air bnb’s, it involves a full kitchen. Our suite contained the bare minimum to be a kitchenette: microwave, small refrigerator, small toaster, small coffeemaker (with no coffee packets), and very basic dishes. I turn to my wife the first night as she replies, “Just pretend like we are camping.” So our cuisine so far has been half take-out and half microwave-ready (a branch of the culinary arts we have yet to experience having no microwave of our own at home).

So what would make a family of five endure such lesser fare and accommodation when greater could be had elsewhere? It is like they say in Real Estate: location, location, location. The southern Florida beach really does live up to its reputation. We are just a block away from the edge of a continent where sun, surf, and sand combine in effort to expunge the tension and earthly care of this world. Sure enough, many come here seeking the pleasure and earthly comfort that only binds them further to this world, but the beach has the potential at least to open the dweller to a different mode of existence.

First, she asks that you distance yourself from the electronics which have never been friends of salt water and sand. Then your wallet, keys, and maybe all cell phones except for the one that will snap all the pictures. But you even forget that one once you have tackled enough waves and soaked in enough rays. Next you let your teenagers go, after you have locked them out of the room. They have phones and can call you if they really need something. Then once these earthly cares are laid aside, the Beach will ask you to just be: Listen to the waves. Smell the fresh sea air. Feel the warm blanket of humidity (most of the time along with sun). See the frolicking wild life: green iguanas, shore birds, and the mass of humanity pulsing up and down the boardwalk.

Then perhaps, maybe just perhaps, in the midst of this unplugged mode of beach existence, one might hear the still small voice of the maker of all this beauty and diversity. Glory to God for this endless variety of colors, tastes, scents, textures, and rhythms of His boundless, creative wisdom. AMEN!