We have been going to Erie Lake for vacation with Ryan’s side of the family the past two years and rent a house right on the water. We get a little space of beach down from the house, and while the water is mostly too cold to go swimming most days, we still spend some time on the beach playing in the sand, getting some sun, and having a good time.
My absolute favorite thing to do is go hunting for beach glass. Every time I pick up a piece I well up with excitement, and if I find a colored piece like green or dark blue my heart skips a beat.
On our past vacation, I found SO many, a handful every time I went down to the water. It seems silly to get excited about something that can be found so easily, but there is something so poetic about sea or beach glass (in this case it is beach glass because though the Great Lakes look like an ocean, the ones I found were tumbled in fresh water).
As I was searching for these small things of beauty, I was thinking how life can be equated with these little treasures buried in the sand and washed up on the shoreline.
We start off this life as delicate pieces of craftsmanship. We are filled with hope, sealed away from the things of this world. Every one of us, though, has our hope sucked away. We find out the world is not as it seemed and we are then left empty. We break and shatter in a million pieces, sometimes by the hand of another. If someone steps on us, we can hurt them, make them bleed, wanting them to feel the pain we feel. We are sharp, jagged, and broken.
We can get discarded in the ocean, feeling like we are forgotten, we are garbage, we are no longer whole and lovely, drowning in something much bigger than us. However, through the violent waves, the crashing against rocks and the shore, tumbling over and over again, we can emerge as something different. Still glass, but different. Beautiful and smooth, stronger than our original state.
To me, that symbolizes my faith walk. I had an experience when I was 18 that left me feeling completely and utterly broken. So shattered and feeling like garbage, I was thrown away into the abyss. I pushed against what I knew was the truth behind God’s Word. It tumbled me, it refined me, and I became something different with time. The rough parts that hurt became smooth. I am still a work in progress, some parts are not completely perfect, but I feel like I was picked up on the shore, cradled in the hands of God, and was told, “You are beautiful and mine.”