I don't really believe in a higher power, certainly not the way most people do. I do not go to church on Sundays, or say my prayers when I lay me down to sleep. All the holidays that my family is inclined to celebrate tend to center around the same important tradition: food. Yet this past week, I found myself waking up in a strange bed every morning, with my first thought being "Thank you God." This week was our annual trip to Long Beach Island, the cozy little beach town on the Jersey Shore that we go to every summer. It is a slowly meandering vacation. There is the occasional bike ride, or drive to the amusement park down the road, but for the most part it is just pure lazy beach time. A typical day involves drinking coffee on the porch, followed by dragging far too much gear (beach chairs, boogie boards, umbrella for shade breaks, snacks, towels, more snacks, that book you can't stop reading) down the street to claim a spot on the sand before the lifeguards