As I anticipated my return home from vacation I could feel the creative juices swooshing in my head. Sitting still while the waves of the Atlantic crashed at my feet, new insights poured into my mind like the ocean water filling every sandy nook and cranny of the warm, dry beach where I perched like a hungry seagull. I have often said that I find myself again when I am at the beach. Salty air, sunshine, time with family, piles of shells collected in a make-shift bucket, and the sound of the ocean faithfully restore clarity and peace of mind.
Sydney asked me what sand is made of. I explained to her that sand is simply rock, shells, and coral that have been crushed into tiny pieces by pounding waves. This process takes years and years and years. The constant jostling and ripping from the weight of ruthless waters breaks apart these hard objects and turns them into the soft sand we love to sink our toes into.
I'm home now, but my heart is still processing the simple lessons of the sea.
Are we not all a little bit like the tiny grains of sand on the ocean floor? We get knocked down and crushed by the relentless waves of hurt, personal pain, and fear. Shame and condemnation break us to pieces and leave us scattered along the beaches of life.
And then God comes in. God restores. God makes something beautiful out of our sharp edges and disfigured forms. He offers grace where once we were pounded with condemnation. He ministers mercy where once we were hammered with judgment. He softens our hearts through the pain...through every wave that threatens to destroy.
Grace has brought me back to my little spot on the sand with the hot sun kissing my shoulders and the foamy broken waves tickling my feet. Grace has washed over the condemnation, and grace has set me free. Grace is softening my hard corners and smoothing out my rough edges.