Beauty Broken

It's been a while. And, to tell the truth, I'd rather be back where I've been than sitting in front of this computer. No offense.

I was blessed to spend a few days at the Gulf Coast, repairing my soul (and napping, to tell the truth). I love it all - the sound of the waves crashing against land, the feel of the constant breeze on my face and in my hair, the feel of sand and water tickling my feet, the taste of the salt on skin once the wave is long gone, and so much more I can't name it all. Like Jacques said, I'm caught in that net of wonder and just don't care.

I learned something valuable about myself and about you while I was there. Shells were everywhere! And, thick. There was a two-hour stretch when I channeled my Granny Georgia who could look for stuff, behind high in the air, for hours. I must admit, though, that my first two days there I didn't really take notice of a shell ... if it was broken. I wanted to see that illusive picture of perfection - the curves and the colors, the minute details, and the secret story of how it got to be where it is. I made a comment to one of my friends - sharing this time away - about the disappointment in the brokenness of a beautiful scallop shell. And, her response caused my mind and my heart to flip. She said, "That's what I love about 'em. Not one of 'em are perfect ... like us. Makes me feel better about my own brokenness, to see such beauty inside in spite of what's happened to them."

What I learned about myself is this: I don't want you to see my broken edges or the weak spots, because you might see only that ... when, what I want you to see is my glory - the curves and colors of my life, the minute details of who I am and the sometimes mysterious story of how I got to be me.
What I learned about you is this: Somehow pain and beauty are often hand-in-hand and being courageous enough to look at your pain will help me discover the depth of your glory - the curves and colors of your life, the minute details of who you are and the sometimes mysterious story of how you got to be you.

Needless to say, of the three tons of shells (not exactly) that I brought back, not very many are 'perfect.' But, the rest, are breathtaking in their own way. I never cease to be amazed at the hidden beauty revealed because of a crack here and a missing piece there. In a world that values (and sells) perfection - as if it really exists - what release there was and is because of my days on the beach! I am praying that you and I both can learn to love the cracks and missing pieces and, especially, the surprising glory revealed, too!

If I close my eyes and relax, I can almost hear the waves coming in ...