Shell, found.
Tucked in a side pocket of an old backpack. From some forgotten trip.
Somewhere I walked on a beach. Gazed at the horizon.
Then looked down for treasure.
And there they were. Scattered on sand. Different shapes. Colors. Designs.
Intricate ridges. Swirls. Some perfect. Others, broken and jagged.
Each reminding me of something more.
Empty
I hold one in my hand on a day when I feel empty.
Without words. Nothing to offer.
But I touch the rough and smooth edges. Remember pounding waves, receding tide, foamy lace remaining on wet sand.
My mind lingers on sunrises—the fiery orb lifting out of a vast sea. And sunsets—melting down into the water, with a medley of liquid colors.
Brilliant.
Stunning.
True.
Shell rests
Shell rests in my hand.
And I rest in the hands of my Father.
Silent.
The empty space slowly fills. With gratefulness.
Looking out at the horizon in my memory, I know what’s to come is settled in the assurance of what’s already been.
Sunrise. Sunset. Tides come in. And go out.
Shells tumble in the surf. And rest on firm, wet sand.
Great is His faithfulness.
What about you?
Have you ever felt empty? With nothing to offer? How did the Lord remind you of His faithfulness?
Related posts
Ocean roar – Momentary art – God’s inner work – Stones in the river – Feeling sand between my toes –
Lamentations 3:22-24 – 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 – 2 Corinthians 4:7 –
3 replies on “Shell”
I recently felt helpless and afraid. My heart full of pain for someone I love who is being careless with his life. Remembering God’s hands are always there is good. Thanks!
I was 15 years old before I ever saw the ocean… and several years older than that when I walked on a beach or picked up shells. Then when I was in seminary I met Von and served on the same 9-person-team with him as a summer-missionary to the Bahamas. I returned to the U.S. with lots of sea shells… both those found on beaches and those captured from the ocean floor by skin-divers. From that time until my move to an senior-independent-living-apartment-which-serves-3-meals-a-day sea shells have always been part of my household decorations. Some evoked special memories each time I looked at them. Others I had no idea which beach in what country country I had found them. But they always spoke to me of the Creator… and how marvelous and varied and beautiful and wonderful just one class of His creation was. I could feel the sand beneath my feet and a slight sea-breeze on my face and the spaciousness of the beach and the ocean beyond. A mixture of gratitude to and love for Him for the sheer blessedness of life (and thankfulness for Von, who was usually walking with me) always filled my heart.
I loved your analogy of the shell in your hand and you in God’s hand.
Love to you and Todd (and your family), Marge Worten
Thank you so much for sharing your story, Marge—and how He’s revealed His glory, His love to you. You and Von always lifted our hearts during those years in South Asia. Grace to you in these days.