What brings me back to 30A?

Familiarity makes us miss blessings. What becomes commonplace makes us blind to the gifts of life.

The start of another week at 30A. My wife and I have been visiting here about 22 years, and I recall Joni Mitchell’s song, “Big Yellow Taxi,” as I walk the streets. Paradise has indeed been paved. But, it still calls.

My three kids all know this place like the back of their hand. It is like home to them. Literally. They all know this place well, every nook and cranny. Hidden fountains, playgrounds, restaurants, and our little secret places to catch fish and find sea shells. I smile every time they defend it or demand that we come here for our vacation. Their friends come to them with “30A is crowded” or “there is nothing to do there” or “everyone goes there,” and violent defense of the area comes out. They take it personally.

You see, they knew the Sugar Shack when it was indeed a shack. When the place was a five foot by five foot room, packed full of candy, with a porch swing outside that they used to sit on as the ice cream ran down their chest. Today, this small business has changed hands, morphed into a large, booming “shack,” and has a line a mile long to enter the door. Almost not worth it (almost).

They knew Seacrest Beach when the town center was a set of fountains that bounced to music and lights. My kids used to play in the fountain for hours, as we hung out at the town square. Today, the fountain serves as a bike rental with shops surrounding it and the hustle and bustle of the crowds.

And the beach? It was ours. Crab hunting at night, seashells in the day, fishing on the beach. Any spot, any time. The Red Bar had no wait, “the hill” at Alys was a spiral playground for the kids, and the Summer Kitchen was undiscovered.

So, what is it that calls my family back each year? To hear my daughter state her case for coming to 30A sways me every time. You can try to pull my family away, but it won’t work. The pull is too strong. I think it is ultimately the memories, the familiar. It is a place where we can walk the streets and recall the last 20 years. 30A was not yet branded. 30A was quiet. 30A was like this treasure that no one knew about except us. This is the picture of Rosemary, Seacrest, and Inlet Beach that is etched in our minds. A place where our kids can remember their childhood. A place that has changed like crazy, yes, but the memories are like deep roots, like rings with a tree that count the years. As far as places on this earth go, it is a first love of our family. A visit to these streets begins with “I remember when.” It is an anchor (little “a”) for our souls.

30A is familiar. And, with all things familiar, there is a tendency to miss the blessing that this week brings. We go to the same restaurants, visit the same store owners, hit the same beach, and I run the same trails. Many years have come and gone. Everything is so familiar. I have done everything many times.

Last night was no different. Our first night tradition remains the same. Shades followed by crab hunting at night. I was tired, a little out of it. We were walking the beach with our flash lights, and I was in another place watching the water. I have been here so many times. Let’s get the box checked for our first night tradition and head back to the house.

Then, it hit me.

I was watching my kids 10 plus years older running around on the beach, chasing crabs, laughing like they had never been on this beach before. They were in the moment, not a care in the world but who would catch the biggest crab.

But, their dad was in familiar territory. The familiar was robbing my blessing.

As I paused in the moment, nothing else mattered to me either. I was blown away at who they each had become. I was blown away at the fact that I was able to walk with them and witness the exuberance. With so much wrong in the world, this was right. I had to intentionally leave the familiar to recognize the blessing.

All of our lives are uniquely familiar to each one of us. It takes intentional effort to recognize the blessing among the familiar.

Take your house. At one time, it was an immense blessing. But, over the years, you have slowly noticed things that are wrong, things you would change. The blessing has become burdensome. The blessing is now familiar.

How about your marriage? The first time you laid eyes on your spouse, it was a gift from heaven. There was nothing that could come between the two of you. But, now, it is familiar. It is easy to take for granted. Maybe you recognize gaps versus unity.

Or your job. At one point, you skipped into working, praising God for the opportunity, knowing that He gave you a gift. Now, maybe you enter the job seeing problems, issues that need to be fixed. The blessing is a barrier to joy.

The examples are endless. Take any material possession you own, it is familiar. Any relationship, it quickly is taken for granted. Your health can become very familiar until it is gone.

Paul started the church in Ephesus and visited it once again on his third missionary journey. And, when he is in prison in Rome, eight years after that last visit, the people are on his mind. He writes them a letter, the book of Ephesians.

He could have started this letter many different ways, but the first two of the six total chapters of the book remind the people of the blessing of their faith. He tells them they were chosen, don’t take it for granted, that faith is a gift. They were all once blind but now they have been given grace. Don’t let the familiar become commonplace. Don’t miss the blessing.

Just like the the church in Ephesus, our faith, too, can become familiar. We need intentional reminders of the gift we have been given. Otherwise, the blessing becomes common, forgotten.

Don’t let your faith become so familiar that you miss the blessing. Battle familiarity by reading the Bible, speaking to God, and doing His good works prepared for you.

Recognize the blessings in that which is familiar around you today. Let the familiar be a reminder of the gifts in your life.

Impact others. Live generously.

Follow my blog.

Enter your email address.