|Posted by Margaret J Everett on January 25, 2012 at 6:00 AM|
Message in a Shell
This lovely curved shell in my hand is called a whelk. A wide cone top tapers down to a slender tail. From the top I see a dot that widens in a circle - ever enlarging, extending outward. Each layer of the rings becomes wider until abruptly, in perfect artistry, the shell itself ends. My finger glides down the smooth under belly of the shell, which glistens softly where once the life existed. The outer surfaces are ridged and cold turned outward to the sea and intruders on the sand. But inside it’s pearlescent.
I like to think each ridge on the shell is a year or a season in the life it once knew. It spent all of its life in growing, becoming the perfect gift.
God, is it all like this?
Do we, each one, spend our lives in becoming that one special gift for each of those we love? Am I spending my life in giving love away? Did you, Lord Jesus?
You gave your life away - a perfect life -
Of unlimited price - given for me.
I treasure your gift.