Sea shells

I've always loved to look at shells on the beach. I used to search for the perfect one, the kind I saw in tourist shops. I have seen so few them, that I have occasionally wondered if they are really manufactured in China. I still don't know where those stores find them, but my quest has changed.

Somewhere along the line, I started to look at shells in a new light. The jagged edges and holes have become a story. The real treasures are the shells worn thin and smooth. I hold their translucent selves in my hand and rub, half expecting a genie to appear. I wonder at the journey that has taken them from the depths of the ocean to the sand beneath my feet. I wonder at the life of the creature that was once inside. I wonder if they were bottom dwellers or surface skimmers. I like to think they are the former.

Did you ever stop to think of what it must be like to live at the very bottom of the ocean? How some creatures never see a shimmer of of the sun's light? Their whole world is only what they can feel, or otherwise sense.
The dark, cold shrouds them.

We are like that I think. We get so wrapped up in our daily lives that it is all we can imagine. Our problems overwhelm us. They come back again and again. Sometimes, our bodies even begin to shut down. The tiniest illness beats us into the ground.

We cannot imagine the light because it has been dark for so long. Yet come it will. Like stepping into Canaan or being granted sight by a mystery man in Bible times. Eventually, the new life comes. Sometimes, it sneaks in, like morning dawn. Othertimes, a major event ushers in the new agenda. I think the shells know something about this journey. These broken treasures have surrendered control and travel in the moment. In spiritual terms, they go by faith.

The tiny shells I have held this week tell me of countless waves pushing and pulling them to the shore. Every wave brings them both closer and further to their desitination. We are so very often that shell. Life pushes us and pulls us forward. Laughter and tears mingle as we see glimpses of the goal even as setbacks assail us. Over and over, pushing and pulling us, smoothing our rough edges, making us beautiful.

In the Bible, King David speaks of dark nights and deep sorrows that are only relieved by morning, by God's deliverance (Psalm 30). I think of the times in my own life when I thought the night would never end. I think of the shells that never imagined the sun. Then, I think we are most human when we fight each wave and stiffen at the darkness. We are human when we fear the changes and difficulties around us. It is God in us when we embrace each trial and joy for what it is, another push or pull that takes us further on our journey to become the creatures God made us to be.

Someday, someone may pass us by and see, just for a moment, a shimmering glimpse of a life well lived. They will see, not just our imperfections, but our perfect, yearning hearts, longing to be close to the God who made us. Then, we will have arrived!

Life can be hard. It really can. Sometimes, you are swimming along and something big sucks you right out of your shell. Sometimes, your house gets smashed against the rocks and gets lost in the seaweed. Always, though, there is a path that leads to the light. There is always a path that leads to a richer, better life. May you each find the path God envisions for you today. May it excite you and bring you peace. The waves can be rough, and the rocks can be sharp. I know. But the joy that comes with the morning light is amazing.