Beach Glass Reflections

My grandma lives on the north shore of Lake Superior, and the beach behind her house is one of my favorite places to spend an afternoon. I bask in the glory of my surroundings, however, much of my time is spent staring at my feet. My siblings and I spend hours sifting through the rocky sediment looking for perfect pebbles to bring home as mementos of our time at Grandma’s. They scour for agates- semiprecious, banded, earth-toned rocks that are well known on the North Shore. To me, agates are pretty, but they're not what catches my attention.

I love beach glass. I love the sheen that is cast when their little facets catch the sun. I love the silvery whites, burnished browns, eye-catching greens, and cool blues. I love that most of them are tiny. I love that no two have been broken the same. I like the ones that have been tossed by the waves for so long that they are smooth, like a pebble. I like the ones that have barely been in the lake long enough to lose their jagged edges. I like the way they stand out on the neutral beach, silently screaming, “Pick me!”

I love beach glass.

I think that sometimes it’s easy to identify with beach glass. Perhaps that’s why I like it so much. At times, we are broken. Something happened and caused us to shatter. Can’t be fixed. Because of the breaks, we’re just swept off the dock into a merciless lake. The fresh shards are very prone to the perpetual movement of the world’s waves. Ouch! Who wants to be bashed against a pier? Crashing storms, shifting currents. Powerful forces, so colossal that they can even grind off the sharp edge. It’s rough to be like a piece of glass in the polishing process.

Whew! What a relief to be swept up onto a beach. Have you ever felt like a sun-basking fleck of glass- as if you catch the sun a little bit differently than all of the other pebbles on the shore? A speck of bright green amongst all of the muted tones, when all you want to do is fade into the beach?

*sigh*  It's rough to be broken, even after you've been rescued from the waves.

But maybe, just maybe, it’s part of the design. Perhaps its a measure of grace that when our little life bottles are a little bit chipped, our pieces are swept into the lake. They could very well be pitched into the dumpster. But for some strange reason, a divine being sees fit that our broken edges and corners are beaten around by a few waves, and are washed up on the beach.

Perhaps it is a part of a grand sort of redemption that our brokenness can turn into a little treasure. Some are white and brown- common and reoccurring. Hurts such as these are all over the shore of life. Others are brilliantly colored- seemingly rare, but still occurring more often than you’d think on this big old beach. Unfortunately for the broken, they stick out just a little bit more. Some broken pieces are well-worn, as if they’ve been tossed by the waves time and time again, beating off the painful edges in an even more painful way. Some have relatively fresh breaks, but with just a small storm, their edges no longer pierce through the skin.

A walk on the beach offers a perfect, pocket sized reminder of this salvation from our brokenness. Not necessarily that He mends us back to our original bottle, but that once the world has its way, He can salvage our pieces and make us beautiful in a new way.

Lord Jesus,

I praise you for seeing fit to turn the things in life that are broken into gems of beauty.I pray that the little bits of brokenness in my life from the mistakes I have made will bring You glory. I marvel at the way in which You use your grace to take even the wrong in the world to magnify Yourself.

Father, I am drawn to the beach glass on the lake shore. Please guide me to those who are broken and are feeling the effects of the waves. May we together shimmer a little bit brighter, bringing glory to Your name.

I praise You for the beach glass, and for the many little reminders of Your grace abounding in my life.