Holy Week On Hilton Head

Early this morning at Driessen Beach on Hilton Head Island, Tim and I gathered with more than a hundred other believers to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

As the light grew from darkness to dawn, I thought about that parallel to my own life: how the death of Christ made it possible for me to come out of the darkness of my sins into the marvelous light of God's forgiveness and love.

This morning's sunrise service was a fitting conclusion to our week here in this earthly paradise. 

Thanks to the rest I received, I now feel almost fully recovered from my cochlear implant surgery.  

Although the Atlantic Ocean was still too chilly for me, Tim ventured into the surf while I simply enjoyed the daily seventy-plus temperatures from my beach chair.

Hilton Head Island holds a special place in my heart.  When our children were preschoolers, we took our vacations here.  We'd drive down from Washington, D.C. each September after the summer crowds left the island to return to school or work.  Tim's parents would fly from Chicago to join us for these jaunts.  I remember how grateful I was for their offer to babysit the kids so we could dine in a restaurant that catered to adults.

We always brought our bicycles.  With Jillian and Richard firmly strapped into the children's seats perched over the rear tires, we would ride through several of Hilton Head's plantations and along a portion of its 50 miles of pathways and trails.  This time, however, I was still somewhat dizzy from my surgery; I didn't want to chance a fall.  Instead, Tim and I walked the trails.

I don't know why my husband is attracted to danger, but while I kept a wary eye out for alligators, Tim ventured close enough to take a photo of these two basking in the sun.

Hilton Head's beaches are fantastic, expansive stretches of fine white sand, even at high tide.  

Almost every day brought sightings of dolphins.

There were sandcastles, too, that ranged from elaborate, detailed creations to a simple one, complete with a moat.

This week the island was crowded with parents and children on spring break as well as spectators here to watch the PGA Heritage golf tournament.  Tim thought about joining the throngs along the fairways, but when he learned that the price of a ticket was $155, he changed his mind.

As an alternative, we bought tickets for the Gullah Tour.  Irvin, our tour guide was a sixth generation of the Gullahs, descendants of enslaved Africans from the Gullah tribe.  Living in the relative isolation of the Lowcountry and Sea Islands of Georgia and South Carolina, the Gullahs have preserved much of the African linguistics and cultural heritage of their forefathers.  

Irvin showed us a Bible translated into the Gullah dialect.  Way cool!

We camped at Hilton Head Motorcoach Resort, a secluded campground near the Cross Island Parkway.  

Public beach access at Coligny Beach was only 1.5 miles away from the campground, easily walkable.

My favorite memory from those vacations 25 years ago is of my daughter's announcement upon our first arrival on the island.  Jillian proclaimed, "I think I'm going to be very happy here!"  Funny words to come out of a three-year-old's mouth!  But the sentiment is just as true today as it was then.