One Million Shells
A while back I promised to do a post about a Jesus moment I had when we were on our honeymoon. It's been a long time coming, but I finally wrote it! Enjoy! I'll try to keep it short.
It was probably the third day or so when the lady running the place we were staying suggested a we visit a special beach. She called it Norman Beach. It was a private beach and a little odd at first. It was hidden away behind all kinds of crazy twists and turns we took precariously in our golf cart. At the bottom of a steep hill was the entrance to Norman Beach. We walked past a hollowed out house with old items left inside, down some rocks and a few rickety boards, past a paddle boat and some other washed up items. Then there we were, standing in our own little private paradise. To the left was big rocks and beautiful trees, a few vines and flowers. Above, the warm and glorious sun. To the right, nothing but ocean and island. The beach itself was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There was very little sand and a small break point for the water. The rest was nothing but shells. Everywhere I looked below me was shells. There were easily millions upon millions of shells. So many you could barely see sand or anything else. It was a sheller's paradise. Jake and I had both wanted to do some shelling, but Honeymoon Beach had little to offer. This was perfect! Immediately I plopped my towel down and took a seat, beginning to shift through the countless shells to find some treasures to take home.
They were beautiful. And tiny. And intricately colored. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The were the smallest and most complete shells I had ever seen in my life. Some were smaller than my pinkie nail. I was awed that God could have created something like that. But as I began shifting closer to the bottom in some places, or found where the water had washed up some shells, I started to toss some back. They weren't whole or pretty enough for me to keep. A few times I grew frustrated when I couldn't find what I wanted, tossing shells back into the gentle waves. Then, out of nowhere, it hit me square in the heart. Every single person is like one of those shells. Some are more broken than others. Some are really broken, only fragments remaining. Some are discolored. Some are beautiful on the outside with all sorts of dirt and grime on the inside. Some are oddly shaped. Some are just beyond description. We are those shells. And the beautiful, wonderful, indescribable thing is that Jesus doesn't toss any one of us back. No matter how we appear, no matter how many people reject us or throw us away, Jesus holds onto us. It doesn't matter how broken we are, Jesus keeps all of us, His treasures, displaying us proudly for the whole world to see.
Just a thought to hold on to today. You are valued and treasured and worth keeping.
It was probably the third day or so when the lady running the place we were staying suggested a we visit a special beach. She called it Norman Beach. It was a private beach and a little odd at first. It was hidden away behind all kinds of crazy twists and turns we took precariously in our golf cart. At the bottom of a steep hill was the entrance to Norman Beach. We walked past a hollowed out house with old items left inside, down some rocks and a few rickety boards, past a paddle boat and some other washed up items. Then there we were, standing in our own little private paradise. To the left was big rocks and beautiful trees, a few vines and flowers. Above, the warm and glorious sun. To the right, nothing but ocean and island. The beach itself was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There was very little sand and a small break point for the water. The rest was nothing but shells. Everywhere I looked below me was shells. There were easily millions upon millions of shells. So many you could barely see sand or anything else. It was a sheller's paradise. Jake and I had both wanted to do some shelling, but Honeymoon Beach had little to offer. This was perfect! Immediately I plopped my towel down and took a seat, beginning to shift through the countless shells to find some treasures to take home.
They were beautiful. And tiny. And intricately colored. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The were the smallest and most complete shells I had ever seen in my life. Some were smaller than my pinkie nail. I was awed that God could have created something like that. But as I began shifting closer to the bottom in some places, or found where the water had washed up some shells, I started to toss some back. They weren't whole or pretty enough for me to keep. A few times I grew frustrated when I couldn't find what I wanted, tossing shells back into the gentle waves. Then, out of nowhere, it hit me square in the heart. Every single person is like one of those shells. Some are more broken than others. Some are really broken, only fragments remaining. Some are discolored. Some are beautiful on the outside with all sorts of dirt and grime on the inside. Some are oddly shaped. Some are just beyond description. We are those shells. And the beautiful, wonderful, indescribable thing is that Jesus doesn't toss any one of us back. No matter how we appear, no matter how many people reject us or throw us away, Jesus holds onto us. It doesn't matter how broken we are, Jesus keeps all of us, His treasures, displaying us proudly for the whole world to see.
Just a thought to hold on to today. You are valued and treasured and worth keeping.
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