One of my favorite things to do is walk along the surf looking for
seashells. Most of the ones I find are pretty small, but earlier this
week I saw what looked like a much larger one. Pulled it out of the
sand and realized it was broken. Yet it was still intriguing to me so I
kept it. The same with the piece of driftwood. You could tell by
looking at it that at one point it had been in a fire, little black
flakes of ash still fall off of it when I pick it up. Despite the
broken shell and scorched parts of the driftwood I can see the natural
beauty in them.
I think too often when we look at ourselves we only focus on the scars,
the black lines and ashes that tend to fall off when we get too close to
someone, or on the gaping piece of our protective shell that is missing
or cracked. And if we aren't careful you can let that view taint how you see yourself. Before long you can get in the downward spiral of assuming that
if people knew about you they wouldn't really want to be around you or
be your friend. That they would pick you up and see the cracks and drop
you back down in the surf, to be tossed around by the waves, hidden and
half buried in the sand. And maybe you do get picked up just to be
tossed back down, but eventually someone will pick you up and see the
beauty in the brokenness, the strength in hanging on in the midst of the
turbulence and storms. Much greater though than hoping someone else
will see the value in us, we have God who created us. While we might
yearn for human acceptance, it is a comfort to know that God cares for
us and that He never tosses us aside no matter how broken, cracked, how
many pieces are missing or burnt we are.
So I'm keeping my broken shell and burnt driftwood. Keeping it as a
reminder that even in the imperfections of my life there is beauty. And
to remind me to look beyond the outside of those around me and see the
beauty in them as well.
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