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In which i visit the seashore in the dark and have a few thoughts about love

In an era obsessed with high-definition clarity and curated perfection, Sarah Bessey offers a radical counter-narrative: that love is most potent when perceived through the blur of darkness. Her recent reflection on a solitary walk along the Prince Edward Island shore at night reframes spiritual and relational uncertainty not as a deficit to be fixed, but as the very medium in which grace operates.

The Luxury of Uninterrupted Time

Bessey begins by grounding her meditation in the tangible reality of a silver anniversary trip. She describes the days spent with her husband as "precious coins, doling each moment out with awareness of the privilege of both the place and the time." This framing elevates a simple vacation into a deliberate act of resistance against the fragmentation of modern life. The setting itself—a literary tour of L.M. Montgomery sites in Prince Edward Island—serves as more than just backdrop; it anchors the narrative in a tradition of finding profound meaning in rural, coastal solitude. As Bessey notes, "Beauty like a blessing at every bend in the road" was not found in grand gestures, but in the quiet rhythm of walking where "Nary a chain restaurant or Starbucks to be found." This choice of setting is crucial; it strips away the noise of consumer culture, allowing the reader to focus on the raw elements of wind, sea, and stone.

"Sometimes you just need to get a grip, girl, and get up and walk out the door."

The narrative turns when Bessey chooses solitude over comfort. Despite being exhausted, she rejects the easy option of room service to walk the beach alone on the summer solstice. This decision is not framed as heroic stoicism but as a necessary engagement with the unknown. She acknowledges her physical limitations—her near-sightedness and sensitivity to light—which forces her to wear sunglasses that obscure her vision as dusk falls. "I regretted my earlier choice of sunglasses," she admits, noting that everything grew dark while she remained on the shore. This moment of self-imposed blindness becomes the catalyst for her theological insight.

In which i visit the seashore in the dark and have a few thoughts about love

Seeing Through a Glass Darkly

The core of Bessey's argument rests on a reimagining of 1 Corinthians 13:12. She recalls the old translation, "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face," and applies it literally to her experience of walking in the night without proper vision. Rather than lamenting the lack of clarity, she finds sufficiency in the mystery. "We do see through a glass darkly, that's just true, but we are experiencing love anyway and it is utterly sufficient for me." This is a powerful reframing: the inability to fully comprehend the divine or the future does not negate the reality of love's presence.

Bessey writes, "I'd rather hear what is true and pure even if it's not quite in 4K definition. I'd rather a hint, a taste of grace than an absence altogether." This preference for the obscure over the hyper-visible challenges our cultural obsession with data, certainty, and visual proof. She argues that this elemental knowledge "doesn't depend on scholarly articles much as I love them or seminary approved texts." Instead, it is found in the sensory experience of the wind and the sea. Critics might note that this romanticization of uncertainty could be difficult for those seeking concrete answers to suffering, yet Bessey's point is not to dismiss clarity but to validate the partial view we all inhabit.

"Basically, this isn't love as explanation, it is love as salvation."

The author connects this sensory experience to a broader spiritual reality, suggesting that God is present in both the light and the night. She lists biblical archetypes—the burning bush, the parted sea, the storm ceasing—as evidence of divine action occurring in moments of obscurity. "It is all the ways we are loving each other the best we can right now," she observes, grounding high theology in the mundane reality of human effort. The argument holds weight because it refuses to separate the spiritual from the physical; the salt air and the dark water become the vehicles for revelation.

The Human Element in the Dark

The piece concludes with a tender interaction that brings the abstract back to earth. Her husband, Brian, finds her on the shore and gently removes her sunglasses, replacing them with her clear glasses. "There," he says, "Now you can see everything." Bessey uses this moment not to dismiss the darkness she just experienced, but to show how love bridges the gap between partial sight and full understanding. The act of being seen and cared for by another person becomes the ultimate proof of her thesis.

She posits that even if we only perceive a "faded and out of focus" glimpse of grace, it is enough to sustain us. "Love through a glass darkly is still love," she asserts, emphasizing that the feeling of connection remains valid regardless of visual precision. This is a comforting counter-narrative to the anxiety of not knowing enough or doing enough in a world demanding total transparency.

"God is in all you can't even imagine and God is the making all things right just over the horizon."

Bottom Line

Sarah Bessey's piece succeeds by transforming a personal anecdote about poor eyesight into a profound meditation on the nature of faith and love. Its greatest strength lies in its refusal to demand certainty, offering instead a validation of the partial, dark, and imperfect ways we experience connection. While it risks oversimplifying the pain of those who feel truly abandoned in the dark, the essay ultimately provides a necessary reminder that clarity is not a prerequisite for love's reality.

Deep Dives

Explore these related deep dives:

  • Pilgrim at Tinker Creek Amazon · Better World Books by Annie Dillard

  • Lupinus polyphyllus

    The article's vivid description of roadside lupines in Prince Edward Island refers to this specific invasive species that transformed the island's landscape from barren dunes into a floral tourist destination.

  • Anne of Green Gables

    Sarah Bessey's literary tour of L.M. Montgomery sites centers on this 1908 novel, which not only defined Prince Edward Island's cultural identity but also established the specific aesthetic of red soil and green gables that frames her anniversary reflections.

  • Wedding anniversary

    The couple's celebration marks a specific milestone tradition where silver gifts symbolize durability and radiance, offering context for why this particular 25-year mark prompted such a deliberate, reflective retreat rather than a standard vacation.

Sources

In which i visit the seashore in the dark and have a few thoughts about love

Hi friends,

My husband had a work conference in Prince Edward Island last week and I tagged along. We added a couple of days at the front-end in order to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary: a proper Silver Anniversary celebration with a special dinner out at a farm-to-table place we have long coveted and a literary tour of L.M. Montgomery sites for the bookish kid I was (and let’s be clear: still am), long walks along roadside lupines and the sea, and just the simple luxury of uninterrupted time together. Brian travels a lot for work, I’m the “home base parent,” we have both had too-full plates lately, and so this exhale was a big treat for us. Our four kids and my folks all rallied to make it happen for us, never an easy task, so my gratitude was deep as we left Calgary for the north shores of PEI. We spent those few days like precious coins, doling each moment out with awareness of the privilege of both the place and the time.

Hours on the seashore that we practically had to ourselves. Windy red cliffs near bright white and red lighthouses looking out on the blue, blue water crashing into the rocks while shore birds swooped. Old inns with poky bedrooms and tiny en suites but magnificent wide porches and stocked libraries with comfy chairs for reading or socializing. Nary a chain restaurant or Starbucks to be found. Shops stuffed with wool sweaters I coveted like an unredeemed hobbit. Long conversations watching the stars come out. Every meal fresh and bright from the water, caught that day. Beauty like a blessing at every bend in the road.

But all good things come to an end and so we drove to the conference centre to earn our way here. On the final evening, Brian absolved me from Dutiful Spouse duties (after 25 years of marriage, he is more honouring of my inherent need for solitude than I am). At first, I sprawled in our hotel room, World Cup football on the television, debating the effort required to get up and go out again. I was tired. I thought of room-service and staying in. My better angels won the battle with a reminder that I could loaf any time: this was the last night in my favourite place and I was less than twenty minutes walking distance to the ...