Last weekend we pulled out the holiday decorations to begin decorating for Christmas, including the "big" bathroom. I'm either not crazy enough about the beach, or not creative enough to figure out how to incorporate shells into Christmas colors.
Washing off the dust and rinsing out the last particles of sand left a mess of debris and a jumble of shells. But, what I discovered was worth the yuck.
We've had some of the shells for decades. This time when I washed them I held and really looked at each one. Wow! What started out as tangible memories of fun with my family became a life lesson.
Each shell had been hand-selected for its beauty or uniqueness. Each shell is completely different from the others. Even though I may not like each one, when I looked closely, there was always something, perhaps infinitesimal, that is appealing or intriguing. For some, the beauty lay deep inside.
It made me think about the times God has had to wash me off and look a little closer to find the beauty within. Examining the shells also reminded me of just how different we are. That doesn't change the fact that we all have the same Creator. As much as I enjoy my wondrously wrought seashells, I also have to remember that separated from their source, they are still just empty homes.
Where have you found the wonder of God's hand lately? Was it within your grasp, or did you have to search for it? How did you capture the wonder?