Christianity

Morning at the duck pond

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

 

 

The sun hasn’t been up for long, yet the pond is fully awake.

On a large moss covered rock in one corner of the pond, the cormorant is sunning itself; fully spread wings welcome the warm sun.

Turtles occupy a majority of the warming rocks and gnarled old roots, jutting up from the still water; always watching, always aware; stout legs and webbed feet stretched out to soak in the warmth.

As I wander closer to the pond’s edge, sleepy ducks regard me with curiosity, but they aren’t afraid; others doze on, with heads tucked into cozy, feathery wings.

The proud Canadian geese continue nibbling grassy tidbits and bugs as I stroll on by; a few venture a hiss or two, just to make sure we are on the same page.

The pond is still and quiet; yet it’s not.

Human noises are blessedly absent, but morning greetings and conversations are vivid and noisy; the rhythm of the pond is in full swing!

Cheerful, grounding, natural.  Life lessons can be learned here; the Divine is all around.

Along the grassy edge of the pond, small fish and tadpoles congregate in the warm shallows, as a ray of sun brings heat and light. Life.

My shadow causes a frantic, mass exodus, as they dart in a mass of tiny tails and fins to safer waters; ripples and bubbles marking their escape.

A large, silent turtle, with only the tip of its snout visible, is waiting; slowly submerging in an effortless swim to its breakfast. The ebb and flow of life on the pond.

Along the edge of the pond there is evidence of nests and bedded down reeds; a few delicate egg shell pieces and tufts of feathers and down. Home for a family of ducks; their safe place; warm and tucked away.

Moving along, the insistent chirping of a red-winged blackbird, signals that I am bit too close for comfort to his family home in the tall, fully leafed tree in front of me.

I move gingerly around this part of the pond, as he begins to dive and swoop at me; making it clear that I’m a visitor here. Respect.

Rounding one side of the pond, a mama and her ducklings dart and swim through the glass smooth water; nibbling up tidbits as they happily cluck and chatter to each other. She steers them toward the middle of the pond. Cautious.

The ripples they leave behind swirl and eddy, then disappear as the still water swallows them up. Calm restored.

Random splishes and splashes can be heard, as turtles slip into the water like small submarines; tiny, pointy heads can be seen as they break the surface to keep a sharp eye on the pond bank; scouts that watch and wait.

The green Heron, master fisherman, is tucked up and underneath the mass of reeds, on a thin root poking up through the water. He patiently waits in stillness and silence. He knows food is just below the surface and silently waits for his opportunity.  Patience.

A ripply movement catches my eye and I carefully make my way to the edge of the pond, curiosity brimming. Is it the river otter come back again; fishing and dining on crawdads and little fish?

No, it is a large, orangey, iridescent fish; the tail poking up and rippling the water like a miniature shark’s fin, as it roots in the murky, muddy water under the gnarled old tree, with the beautiful leafy branches.

I am captivated.

I sink to my feet watching it go about its business; gracefully moving and swishing as it searches for a treasure hidden in the murky pond.  Trust.

A sudden cacophony of honking and quacking, breaks apart the loudly peaceful pond, as a goose announces its displeasure; wings and webbed feet flapping and dashing into the pond, causing a few moments of panic and unrest as others follow suit.

Quickly, all is calm and everyone goes about their business, as if nothing has happened. Ritual, rhythm, order restored. Life at the pond.

The bench that is tucked in under the beautiful tree, with weepy branches skimming the water, beckons to me.

Resting here in the shade, I try to blend in quietly, allowing nature to return to its busy activities, and the turtles to relax their ever vigilant and rigid watch.

There is always one who stalks, silently tracking my movements.

As my eyes roam over this place I love, I notice that the trees and flowering plants are always reaching up to the sky, their source of life; branches and tender shoots going up, up.

Even in seasons of autumn and winter, when skies are grey and the sun seems scarce, always their branches seek light and reach upward. They know Who sustains them.

Some of these trees are gnarled and funky, with twists and crimps, bends and burned out, broken up places, yet up; they always point up.

There is a lot to learn out here at the duck pond.

The simplicity of creation looking to the Creator to protect, provide and sustain, as the seasons and cycles of life move ever onward.

My life resembles these tenacious trees, with their broken branches and crooked spots and their seasons of beauty and abundance, fully leafed and lovely.

Seasons come and go, ebb and flow as the divine tapestry of our lives are woven by a Master weaver; intersecting pain and beauty; abundance and lack. Always with arms and face lifted up to the Source of Life.

Some things cancer taught me…

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

April is a big month for me. On April 26, 2012 I celebrated a HUGE victory. That is the day, at 2:15 pm, I was told, “You are cancer free!” After being diagnosed with an aggressive breast cancer in November 2010, I began surgeries and treatments that ended in April 2012.  

As this anniversary date approached, I had many things running through my head; random memories of the cancer center and that “one of a kind, not found anywhere else” smell; the taste of the peppermint candies I sucked on to keep the horrible taste of saline and chemo out of my mouth; the blanket I brought to keep warm during treatments and comfy pink slipper socks. I can still hear the sound of radiation equipment being dialed into place. It was such a lonely feeling being alone in the radiation room, as the technicians went behind layers of safety walls, and I lay there exposed, cold and numb, willing the machine noises to stop; hoping I wouldn’t burn.

Good memories also pop into my mind of my faithful husband going with me to my treatments while the meds flowed in; or when a friend kept me company during a long treatment. The distraction of good company meant so much to me, even though I knew it was hard for them and uncomfortable. There are the memories of my little 2nd grade boy telling me to hop on his bed, as he tucked me in with blankets and got out his books to read to me. Blessed. Loved. Precious. I treasured up in my heart when my 6th grade girl would tell me about her day and the ups and downs of middle school; feeling so blessed that she shared with me; praying so hard that I would have years and years ahead of me to just listen to her talk to me.

Through all of this, I learned I am physically strong, as my body fought with everything it had to beat this invader named breast cancer. It endured extreme treatments, nausea, steroids, exhaustion and hair loss, but never stopped fighting. God gave me the strength to make it one more day, through one more test, one more treatment. He did it. He is absolutely faithful. His eyes never left me and His tears mixed with my own as I would cry out of fear, rage and frustration; when I wondered if I was going to die.

I see my body through a different filter now. I am proud of my scars. They shout out that a battle was waged and won. I want to be strong and healthy, so I do what I love – hiking, biking, swimming and all things outdoors.  I want to enjoy every single second of life I am given. If my son asks me to go get ice cream, I will. It’s a memory we are making and it makes me happy that he wants to share it with me. So I will eat ice cream and I will not worry over whether or not I will look ok in a swim suit because of it. I am alive and that is enough. Our days are numbered and I want to take advantage of each one with those I fiercely love.

I am mentally and spiritually stronger, as well. Despite days of deep sadness, fear of the unknown, rage and brain fog, I told myself I would get through this; that cancer would not win and that God would not give me more than I could handle. I knew God would be with me through every test, every treatment, every bit of good and bad news. I held on to that and He proved Himself faithful and merciful and compassionate. Yes, it was the hardest thing I have ever done. Yes, it put my body, mind and soul to the ultimate test, but I am an overcomer and I am victorious in Christ Jesus.

During other trials that have come along since this cancer diagnosis, I have looked back on all that Jesus brought me through.  It gives me strength and courage to face the trials that I know are coming. Life is hard, unpredictable and unfair, but I have found that if you look closely, you will find nuggets of joy and hidden treasures of beauty in everything. It is there just waiting to be discovered, but you have to look for it, change your filter from a victim mentality and choose life; choose to find peace, hope and sweetness in whatever is swirling around you. I promise you it is there. I remind myself daily, sometimes minute by minute, that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. It is only by His strength, love and healing that I am here to live another day and breathe another breath. It is His breath in my lungs and as long as I live, I will give Jesus the praise, honor and thanks due Him. He saved my life and changed my perspective. I am thankful. I have another day to live and my prayer is that I leave everyone better than I found them. Peace and love, readers.

Day at the Beach

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 2 Comments

The early morning sun offers the promise of warmth and expectation.

An indolent day at the beach is exactly what is needed!

Arms laden with a beach bag full of vittles, sunscreen and a towel; I discover the perfect spot to settle in for the day.

Cliffs behind me, ocean before me, sun above me, sand below.

Perfection. Shelter. Peace.

My little space is set up; all is in order and ready for me to be one with the breeze and old-Earth smell of brine and life and decay.

Shoes off, sunscreen on; now to the water.

Contradictions.

That is what I see in the ocean; yet also safety, born out of the ancient rhythms of the earth. Forever marching on, steady and unyielding.

The tide’s constancy is relentless, untamable, fierce; all without apology, the ocean does what it is meant to do.

The water laps and rushes and chases my feet; startling and elemental in it’s coldness. Invigorating and inspiring.

The birds, crabs and tiny sea creatures count on the unchanging ways of the ocean, because it is life to them. The ocean gives and these creatures take.

But I think the ocean is also a taker. It takes the worries, stress, fears and uncertainties in life; it takes words spoken and wept and screamed by those who walk the beach looking for answers, solace, peace. We push those things out of our hearts and the ocean pulls them into itself.

A lovely dance.

Perhaps this is what God does for us. He takes all of the fear, rage, worry and tears that we spew out, into Himself and pulls them away from us as we release it all to Him. He is fierce, constant, untamable, mysterious and present. He gives life, He is love; we rely on Him.

Back at my sanctuary, the sand under my legs and back is so warm, relaxing and inviting. It is solid and permanent; warmth leeches into my chilled bones; lulled to a drowsy peacefulness.

With closed eyes and warm sun baking down in pleasant coziness, I notice my other senses stirred; susurrating waves whisper and breathe, birds call overhead; somewhere a dog barks.

That scent of salt floats on the ever present breeze along with other notes of a BBQ and the cloying scent of flowers.

Drowsy and dreamy, my mind wanders in that half dreaming state of blissful rest.

The sun has shifted in the sky; there is a slight chill to the air. How long have I been lying here?

Hunger gnaws, so out come the snacks.

Seagulls make an appearance; they scold and demand that I share; watching closely every move I make. I share.

Before packing up to head back to reality, it’s time for a walk.

There are footprints going before me in the sea-soaked sand and I wonder whose they are and what secrets they’ve spoken to the sea today.

Interesting how before long, all traces of my footprints will be washed away; as if I had never walked here; as if the past is washed away and cleaned up and brand new sand is offered up for a new direction, new footprints, new promises.

Jesus cleans up our lives like this; the old washed away, the new offered up; clean, lovely and ready for a new journey.

Sun dipping down, air quite cool, water coming higher; my signal to call it a day.

Heading to the car I feel rested, new and cleansed; a little wild and wooly from the rawness of the ocean and its wild and chaotic, yet perfectly ordered dance.

 

Come Away

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

I’m up early.

A restless, unsettled day, led to a similar night of sleep.

Rest is elusive, thoughts scattered.

Warm, earthy, steamy coffee warms my hands;  my eyes glaze over; mind swirling.

Through the open kitchen window, the morning air carries the faint scent of jasmine and cool earth.

The house is warm, but the fragrant air is inviting and full of promise; electric.

It beckons.

A friendly breeze, a puff of soft air, calls to me from the musical notes of the wind chimes,

“Come out.”

I go out.

My favorite bench is canopied by the looming butterfly bush; it’s purple, fragrant blooms toss and wave; encouraging me to come.

I do.

The cold marble of my bench, as I sit, is in stark contrast to the warmth of my hands around the child-painted coffee cup I carry with me. “I love Mommy” it proudly shouts, from its brightly painted surface. That brings a smile.

Also some tears.

I don’t feel so loveable of late.  Irritable. Tired. Frustrated, not loveable. Chaotic, possibly.

Looking at the flowers in the planter tubs next to my bench, I see chaos; at first.

Upon closer inspection, I notice that the random way in which I planted these lovelies, is actually quite beautiful.  Patterns emerge amidst the seemingly random design.

There is order here in the planter, despite the chaos and it is so lovely! Yes! Yes, it is.

Do goodness and beauty and happiness have to be meticulously ordered, spaced and arranged to be ok and acceptable?  Do I have to understand it?

This revelation makes me smile and breathe deeply. Inhale life.

The rising sun glitters its reflection at me on the feathery water of the stone bird bath. Winking and spunky, I want to laugh with it, at the possibilities of the new day.

I feel my back and shoulders relax; everything isn’t wiry and tense, ready for flight. Calm. Peace.  Is that joy?

Again the breeze; it caresses the back of my neck with cool, kind fingers; barely a whisper against my ear.

What was that?  I close my eyes, try to still my mind and just be.

I hear it now. You are speaking, but no words are spoken.

The peaceful scent of jasmine and butterfly bush blooms tell me all is well.

The stable, steady, ancient scent of dirt reminds me that new life is all around; rebirth is waiting daily for me to acknowledge it.

The breeze whispers that I’m never alone.  You will never leave me. I remember; I know.

I see in the riotous, chaotic colors and placement of the flowers, that You have patterned and woven my life together in a tapestry that may appear to be a random intersection of lines and curves; hills and dales; yet is actually something far more beautiful and ordered and perfected than I can imagine.

You see the entire picture of me and You call it lovely; You call me lovely. I am enough because of You.

You have dried my tears; they are captured in the bottle that holds all of them. In place of frustration, I notice acceptance has taken root. Not a resigned, sighing acceptance, but an acceptance of the unique journey I am on with all of the ups and downs that I know will come.

My place in Your arms as chosen, loved, accepted and redeemed is reconfirmed on my little marble bench. I am enough. I just needed to come away with You for a spell. You remind me I’m Yours and all will be well.

It really is ok to rest…

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Mark 6:31 (NIV) Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”

When I read this verse this morning, it jumped off the page and invited a deeper look; more than just a cursory glance. On the surface, it seems like a benign verse; one that can be read at face value and left at that. However, after giving this verse some thought, I beg to differ!

Jesus and the disciples had little, if any leisure time during His time of ministry; teaching and healing the people. The crowds never seemed to let up. People were so anxious to be near Jesus, to listen to His revolutionary teaching that set them free, released them from bondage, fear and legalism. They heard that He had the power to physically and spiritually heal them, so they came in droves with their ill and hurting friends and family, with those suffering from demonic harassment and chains, for a chance to see Him, touch Him, be healed by Him.

Jesus and his disciples rarely had  “opportunity for private meditation and prayer, nor of spiritual converse together; nor even so much as to eat a meal’s meat for the refreshment of nature.” (1)

Being fully God and fully man, Jesus knew and felt the physical and mental exhaustion of always being “on” and the deep fatigue of being surrounded by the hurting, needy and lost.  He also knew his disciples needed respite from ministering along side Him. So Jesus retired from His work. He was diligent to remove Himself and the disciples for periods of rest, refreshment and spiritual and physical re-filling, so that they could then return encouraged and strengthened for the next task set before them. He gave Himself and the disciples permission to stop and take a breather; to eat, to get themselves away from noise, hurry and the urgency of humanity knocking at the door of their hearts.

As I thought about this verse, I felt Jesus whispering to me and my worn out heart to “come with Him” by myself “to a quiet place and get some rest.” My days may not be filled with healing the sick and enemy-harassed in my world,  or with traveling roads that are literally dusty and parch the mouth, or teaching on hillsides in the hot sun, but He knows what my days are filled up with: relationships that are chaotic,  full of misunderstandings and unmet expectations; disappointment; dreams long held in my heart, that seem so far from being realized; illnesses and injuries that I cannot control or fix; past regrets that try daily to haunt my peace; friends and family going through heart wrenching trials that physically hurt me as I see the struggle; daily annoyances and offenses that threaten to become bigger than they need to be; and the list goes on. Life on planet Earth and the human condition!

I absolutely love that Jesus gets this! He understands the physical and mental exhaustion of taking care of everyone else around me. The things I take on that are not really mine to take, that I struggle and wrestle with until I have nothing left. He loves me enough to give me permission to get away, rest, get some refreshments for my mind, spirit and body and then, with the full armor of God strapped on me, get back in there and move forward, into all the goodness, abundance, joy and excitement He has planned out; filled up and able to minister to those He places in my path for such a time as this.

Is He calling you to go off with Him for a spell; to rest, refresh and soothe your mind, spirit and body? It really is ok to rest…

(1) John Gill’s Exposition of the Whole Bible

 

Meandering

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High in the forested mountain, a burst of water comes bubbling up. Why it started there, in that hidden place is a mystery. Spreading out, it searches for the path it is to follow. There isn’t one readily visible, so with tenacity and confidence it presses forward, looking for that indentation; the hollowed decline in the ground. Success!

Following the downward dip in the ground, the water flows. Sometimes it seems to follow an exact, obvious path that makes perfect sense, then suddenly, a shift; a deviation; a random change of direction as an unexpected obstacle looms up, making the easy downward flow alter its course. It seems haphazard, but it isn’t. The obstacle is there for a reason. The stream does not know why it’s there or how the obstacle came to be in the way, but nonetheless, there it is and it must be navigated.

Success! The resilient water finds the best route around, over or through the offending obstacles and soldiers on to its destination. Where is that place? What will it look like? Will it be a long journey? Will there be any more obstacles or is the path now clear and straightforward?

The downward descent slows for a bit and the stream meanders along with no obvious route to is wanderings. It moves from here to there; around that rock, over that fallen branch; gurgling and swirling as little rocks, sticks and leaves beneath the surface shape its route. The path may be rocky and tricky to navigate, but there is such beauty in the journey, if one can take a bit of time to see it.  The water plays its gently flowing, or at times, powerful rushing music as it dances over, around and through those things that lie in its path. That in itself is lovely.

The stream may stay in this slow, meandering space for a bit; almost as if it is resting for what lies ahead. There is peace and rest here; deep pools reflecting prisms of light as the sun filters through pine-scented branches. Small bugs dart to and fro on their own journeys; busy and focused. Animals may stop by for some refreshment; finding nourishment here and leaving their footprints in the soft, pungent soil; adding to or taking from the stream; the dance of life. Connection.

Eventually the stream picks up speed and the time for calm is over. Heading down the mountain, it rushes head on into boulders, large fallen trees and other forest-y things that would like to block its way. The pull of its final destination forces the water to find a way over, around, through and it does; it always does. It may be wild and gushing and completely chaotic; or slow and methodical; plodding. But it will always reach its destination. The way has been charted out for this stream before the it even existed. I picture my life in this way, too. I relate to the stream and the obstacles it has to overcome, along with the times of rest and meandering, lazy peace. We all have a destination and we will all reach it.

My destination is the eternal arms of Jesus.

 

 

Everything

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 2 Comments

This song by Lifehouse (lyrics below) has been running through my head for a couple of days. I find this song profoundly beautiful and deeply moving; almost to the point that I cannot explain it with words. When I listen to it, goosebumps rise up all over my skin and my spirit awakens and rises up; tears prick my eyes and my heart beats stronger and faster. This is a song I can put on repeat. The lyrics resonate with me so deeply, because I have experienced these emotions and responses to Jesus described in this amazing song. I desire to hear Him speak and long for His words; it is a deep need in my soul and when I do hear Him, peace fills me up; I rest and have the strength to keep walking and trusting Him.

There are several specific times in my life that I look back on and know, like I know, like I know, that it was ONLY Jesus that kept me going each day; only His presence, only Him holding me in His hands and letting me rest that literally kept me afloat. There were times that I didn’t know it was Him carrying me through the storm, until it was over, and frankly, wasn’t sure I wanted anything to do with Him.  Nevertheless, He saw through the pain and fear, right into my hurting heart and gently lifted me anyway. I’m His girl and He wasn’t letting go.

During my years of battling an aggressive form of breast cancer, He was the only hope I had to cling to and He never once failed me. Never once. The weeks and months that I don’t remember, because of a haze of medications used to keep me from the sickness of treatments, He was there and held me in His hands. I have scars, yes, but I’m proud of them. It reminds me of where I was and where He brought me. Survivor. Overcomer. Victorious.

During other dark times, He was the light that led me to a place of healing, peace and safety. Fully protected; never out of His sight. Thoughts of Him do take my breath away! He has stolen my heart and I’m not ashamed to say so.

Life has things in store for me and those I love that will be hard, painful and seem very unfair. I know this. However, I also know that Jesus has walked this suffering before me, He knows, He understands, He heals and He restores. He brings joy and peace into situations where there shouldn’t be any.

He is all I want, all I need. He is everything.

Everything

By Lifehouse

Find me here, and speak to me

I want to feel you, I need to hear you

You are the light that’s leading me to the place

Where I find peace again

You are the strength that keeps me walking

You are the hope that keeps me trusting

You are the life to my soul

You are my purpose

You’re everything

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you

Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

You calm the storms and you give me rest

You hold me in your hands

You won’t let me fall

You steal my heart and you take my breath away

Would you take me in, take me deeper now

And how can I stand here with you and not be moved by you

Would you tell me how could it be any better than this?

Cause you’re all I want, you’re all I need, you’re everything, everything…

Roads through the desert

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 1 Comment

Isaiah 43:19 (MSG)

“Forget about what’s happened;
    don’t keep going over old history.
Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.
    It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?
There it is! I’m making a road through the desert,
    rivers in the badlands.”

This has always been a favorite verse of mine. I love the themes that jump out at me; hope, adventure, new beginnings; provision.

I have a tendency to go over the past, over think it and analyze it to death. I so easily become consumed with things that happened, things that were said that hurt (either by me or to me), actions and betrayals that I fear will happen again and again and again. This verse tells me to forget about reliving those things; to be alert and present, so that I don’t miss out on the brand new things God wants to do for and through me. He doesn’t say “I’d like to do something new” or “I’m considering it”; no! The Lord says “I am about to do something brand-new!” It is a promise! I can feel the excitement coming through His words when He says, “Don’t you see it? There it is!” The Lord is wild about you and me and loves the plans He has so masterfully created for each of us. It excites Him and brings Him such pleasure to surprise us with His purpose for our lives and to whisper into our spirits, “this is the way, walk in it.”

I don’t want to be so wrapped up in the past or worrying over the future that I completely miss out on what He is doing right now, right this minute. I don’t want to miss the road He is making through my desert; the obstacles He will move and the ruts He will smooth over. There are days when it feels like I can’t find the road; there are too many little off shoots and paths that distract me and keep me going in circles. If I stop, breathe and give myself space and permission to spend time with Him, He reveals that road through the desert and gives me directions on how to get back to it. He helps me over the ruts, around the boulders and through the brambles. He reveals the beauty that is there.

How bleak to miss the rushing river of blessings and revelation that He is creating in the badlands I often roam! How quickly I forget that water is the source of life. Where there is water, there is often beauty, refreshment, fullness of life, peace and provision. Jesus is my river in the badlands of humanity. He is beautiful, my strength, my peace; He refreshes my soul and provides for all I need. He is my source of life and He is enough. How wise I would be if I lived with this mindset every day. So let’s be alert! Let’s watch and wait on the Lord and see what He will do in our deserts and badlands; the beauty He wants to show us in the midst of our journey. May we live in watchful expectation for the new and exciting plans He has for us.

Just a morning

~ Extravagant Hope ~ Leave a comment

Sunlight filters in through the blinds; the breeze is cool and refreshing through the slightly open bedroom window.

Shifting from dreamy sleep to wakefulness; content and peace filled. Thank you Lord for waking me up – I’m coming!

Cozy cat stirs and stretches; stomping on body parts still under the covers. Time to get up. He knows the routine well.

Scent of brewing coffee brings homey memories to mind; rich and earthy, there is safety in predictability.

Dogs wait politely, then bound outdoors enjoying freedom after a long, snug night. Noses to the ground on high alert; sniffing out the offending evening invaders; dew drops spot their muzzles; glinting as the sun peeks through tree tops.

Sounds of the morning!

Wind chimes sing softly and gently as the breeze tosses itself about; birds up since dawn cling to the feeders, calling and scolding and jostling for position. Bright reds and yellows, muted greys and black.

The gentle light of early morning gives way to something  stronger; fortifying, brighter, life giving.

Coffee and the Bible sit on the pine table; steam swirls and pages flutter; beckoning and calling.

My heart stirs. There are mysteries to unravel here; richness to take in and understanding waiting to be sought and known. Revelation, peace and contentment are what I seek; warmth, depth and life.

Who knows what will come as the day unfolds? Joy? Laughter? Tears? Fear? For now, I sit at my Daddy’s feet, listening to Him speak with all my senses; sipping the warm richness of my coffee. It’s just a morning; but it is my joy.

 

 

Seashells

~ Extravagant Hope ~ 2 Comments

When I was at the beach not too long ago, I stopped and sat down on the sand, soaking up the sun. This beach was full of beautiful treasures washed up by the waves. I noticed some interesting looking shells lying near my resting spot, so I started to look at them more closely. I noticed that some were very intricate in shape and color and others were smooth with few rough edges. Some were very simple and sleek with muted colors while others were brighter and more vibrant, with fascinating nooks and crannies. I picked them up, piled them up in front of me in the sand and began imagining how each one became what it was; what its journey through the ocean might have been like, how far it had traveled before finally being spit up on the sand for beach lovers to gasp over and bring home as lovely treasures.

Looking at the force of the waves breaking on the shore, I can see that these shells went through a lot to get where they ended up; some of them whole and intact; while others were broken and a bit beat up, but pretty and interesting all the same. I like to imagine that these shells were uprooted from where they were comfortable and established on the ocean floor. The incessant pull of the tide, other larger sea creatures disrupting them, bothering them, forcing the creatures inside of the shells to move, hide or break just to survive.

Depending on the distance traveled, the severity of the storms weathered and the amount of time the shells were thrown into the rocks and ocean floor, all had a huge impact on how these shells arrived on the beach, what condition they were in when their journey was over. Isn’t this so much like us? When we finally come to Jesus and allow Him to be the center of our lives, our “enough”, don’t we sometimes feel a bit worse for wear? For some of us, the journey was not as arduous as it was for others, so we arrived like clean, shiny shells with just a few rough edges. For others, the journey was long and difficult and we arrived broken and battered, after weathering all that we did. Still others arrived with a vibrancy that captures the attention, with fascinating nooks and crannies coming from life experiences that are begging to be examined and figured out.

The very wonderful thing about these seashells, read us, is that each one is beautiful in its own way. Each one reaches out and speaks to someone different. Each shell, each one of us, with our intricacies, brokenness, vibrancy or calm energy, funky nooks and crannies or smooth edges, is needed to make this world what it is; to speak to and reach other people right where they are in their lives. I can’t imagine walking a beach and seeing only shells that look identical. How boring that would be; how devoid of life and mystery!

I say we embrace our journey and value all those things that made us into the funky, fascinating, funny people that we are! I believe that Jesus looks at each of us and all the ways that our journeys transformed us, gasps in delight and snatches us up as His very precious treasures.