I love sea glass - smooth, colored, old, rare these days. It has to be the real thing though, the kind that has a found treasure feel to it, not just broken glass from last summer. A piece of sea glass is the detail of a story almost lost but always meant to be found. Maybe it was a part of a champagne bottle left behind after a sunset marriage proposal. Or a
beer bottle that kids tossed under a pier at low tide. Or maybe it was a small vial of poison silently sipped by a desperate lover before walking hopelessly into the sea, her gossamer gown flowing, aglow in the moonlight. Probably that.
Whether the original vessel was tossed out, smashed in anger, shattered on the bow of a new boat at its christening, dropped on the rocks, tossed overboard, or taken down with a sinking ship - one way or another it found its way into a watery grave. But then, as if joining a choreographed salt water dance, the glass fell into the rough and tumble of
the ocean where rocks and coral and sand transformed it. Jagged edges were smoothed and polished, and a soft patina replaced the former sharp clarity and color. Years and miles and tumbles later, some of the glass was tucked safely into the sand of the shore by a final tide, half hidden by kelp and driftwood, waiting for treasure seekers.
We went on a fall cruise to the northeastern U.S. and Canada a couple of years ago. It was fun until wild winds and 21 foot swells overtook us. Even that was exciting and dramatic until a rogue wave knocked our ship silly, leaving us listing at a 45 degree angle. Pianos slid off stages, food and dishes flew all over the place, the pools emptied. After that close call, Morgan and I went on a lovely, tranquil walk on a rocky beach near Bar Harbor, Maine. And there they were - pieces of sea glass waiting for us with hidden stories of endless storms and calms.
I guess we all feel like Sea Glass Girls sometimes. What we imagined to be the leading story of our lives was crushed and tumbled and is being remade, but maybe we're emerging with smoother edges and lovelier patinas. When things aren't as clear as we thought before, it seems that the mystery is creating depth in us. And even when we fight against it the fight is good and worthwhile and life giving. We're all in it together too, the dance of life. Look around and breath it in: we care about you. I care about you.
What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived - these are the things God has prepared for those who love God. (1 Corinthians 2:8-9)
I guess we all feel like Sea Glass Girls sometimes. What we imagined to be the leading story of our lives was crushed and tumbled and is being remade, but maybe we're emerging with smoother edges and lovelier patinas. When things aren't as clear as we thought before, it seems that the mystery is creating depth in us. And even when we fight against it the fight is good and worthwhile and life giving. We're all in it together too, the dance of life. Look around and breath it in: we care about you. I care about you.
What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived - these are the things God has prepared for those who love God. (1 Corinthians 2:8-9)
