A Walk on the Beach in Search of the Perfect Shell
A walk on the beach
I have always always loved the ocean. From the first time I saw it there was something about it that spoke to me. Unfortunately, we live in Kentucky so a big lake is easy to come by, but not an ocean. In order to get to the ocean we have to either endure a very long drive or take a flight: both have been impossible since Bill got sick two years ago with Covid.
Recently though his health was better and so we headed down south for some sunshine and ocean time. It was so good to get away. We took our chairs down to the beach and just sat and watched the show. Some days the waves are big and some days they are small but I always hear God’s voice saying “Be still and know that I am God.”
Florida Memories
We always brought our children and some of their friends on our yearly pilgrimage to the ocean. Some years we went to Gulf Shores, Alabama. Some years we went to Destin, Florida. Wherever we went there were somethings that were predictable. Someone would forget to apply sunscreen to some part of their bodies and get burned. Once it was the tops of one of the kids feet (can’t remember which kid) and one year it was Justin’s ears. He burned them so bad he cried every time I pulled his shirt off and it touched his ears. Another thing that was predictable, Martha would come visit.
I’ve written about Martha many, many times. My first cousin who became one of my best friends. She lived in the Florida panhandle and always drove to spend a couple days with us. On every single trip we’d leave the kids with Bill and her husband, Glenn and go for a walk on the beach.
Walking Without Her
Martha went to Heaven in 2015. I will never walk on the beach again without missing her. We’d walk and talk about her job, my writing, our kids and then later our grandchildren. We never ran out of things to talk about. She was the yin to my yang. We shared a life long history of family memories that I don’t share with anyone else. Losing her was like losing a piece of my heart.
And then the last two years, several times, I almost lost my husband, Bill. The fact that we even made it back to Florida after two rounds of Covid and his autoimmune disorder is pretty dang amazing. I don’t know how many times I’ve looked at him sitting in his beach chair looking out at the ocean and whispered, “Thank you, Jesus.”
A walk on the beach
Every time I walk on the beach I look for seashells, I suppose most people do. When the kids were little we’d put the shells in a sack and bring them home to look at and remember our Florida fun. This last trip to Florida I picked up a hand full of shells and brought them back to the place where we were staying. I spread them out on the table and then I noticed something. Even though I tried to find the perfect shell if I looked close enough each and every shell had some sort of flaw. Maybe just a tiny hole, or a small crack, but there were no perfect shells.
I started wondering about how and why shells were made. I’m sure somewhere during my school years I knew, but I had forgotten.
Just like seashells all of us have flaws. And just like the shells that wash up on the shore, someday we will all shed our shells/bodies and leave them behind. Our bodies are imperfect shells that house us for a time and when we no longer need them, our soul separates and we leave them behind.
In Search of Perfection
The next time you go for a walk on the beach and pick up a shell, pick up some of the flawed ones, too. Then examine them ALL closely. Like me you will discover there are no perfect shells and like me you probably already know, there are no perfect people. We are all flawed but flaws don’t matter if we follow Jesus. Everyone who believes in him, repents and is baptized for remission of their sins….he has covered.
And what a blessing that is!
I miss you Martha but I will see you again one day….and I’ll never forget all the times we were able to walk on the beach together.
Love