A recent trip to the beaches of Fort Morgan sent me into a deep dive of metaphors. Do you ever look at something and think, God wants me to see this? As we walked up and down the beach, all we saw were large broken shells. The red flags were out and the wave swells were near 6 foot. No wonder the shells were broken, you couldn't step foot in the ocean without holding tight with your toes. Then, Stone reached down and found an almost perfect sand dollar. A little broken but so beautiful, like a prize. But what about all these broken shells? How do they impact my current situation and why do I keep hearing "bent but never broken," the sticker on the front of my laptop?
I watched my mother spend hours walking the beaches looking for the perfect shells. She would be gone and come back with a plastic bag filled with the perfect shells. These still live in her Florida room at her home. Memories with my family and especially my dad. They spent many years at Tradewinds, finding shells together and walking those beaches. Back then, Addie was little and we spent more time by the pool than we did on the beach. I loved the beach but the pool always had more to offer for the kids. I never thought I would find peace in looking for shells as I did this past break. But I wasn't looking for the perfect ones, just the beauty.
God's beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. I've been intentionally slowing down to see it. I don't want to miss anything from the sunrise to the sunset. I have an abundant amount of pictures of His beautiful pictures he painted while there. I noticed the colors of the trees, the clear skies with white puffy clouds, the smell of Fall on the beach, the emptiness of Buc-ees as we stopped for our favorite foods, the conversations with long-time friends, new restaurants without the long waits, and the screen door that could stay open for the Fall temps in the bedroom. None of these are by chance, it's all a blessing that we get to have these experiences. I caught myself saying, thank you Jesus, so many times. Even for the broken shells.
As I reflected on those shells later, I shared with Meshella what God was showing me and what my next blog was going to be about. The craziness that if I picked up a shell and put it back, what if that was the goal of a washed up shell. To be placed on the mantel or in a display in our homes, kind of like Toy story. Ridiculous right? What if those shells represented my people. I can't go anywhere without thinking about the ones I serve. Your people become an extension of your family and they all play a role in your life. Their stories become intertwined with yours and their struggles and brokenness are carried with you. Those broken shells became the beauty of their stories.
It was clear, I wasn't looking for the perfect shell just like I don't need the perfect teacher, student, or staff. None of us are perfect and those shells became that metaphor for me. Find the beauty in the brokenness. Fill in the gaps with love and compassion to complete the shell. This led me to Psalm 34: 18-19. This psalm, written by David, is an expression of thanksgiving for God's protection and care for those who trust in him.
