Sand dollars are my treasures. When I was seven years old, my mother and I found oodles of them on the sunny shores of Jekyll Island, Georgia. I gave one to each kid in my second grade class and made a lot of friends that day. The perfect, round, white shells symbolize blessings to me. I have searched for them ever since.
When I was first divorced, sad and scared and confused...I escaped to Captiva Island, Florida with some girlfriends, to try to make sense of the chaos in my soul. While walking alone on the beach one evening, discouraged and desperate, I prayed God would show me one -- just one -- and sure enough, I looked down and there, half-embedded in the sand, was a blessing. My heart leapt as I scooped it up--only to discover it was broken, jagged, sharp edges tinged with black....and a flood of tears hit me. Broken, just like my life. I bitterly flung it out into the crashing surf. I stayed on that beach a long time that night, talking to God, crying, as the sun sank into the horizon turning the sky into pinks, purples and oranges. But as always, with beaches, the waves wash away yesterday's footsteps, a few days later while strolling along that sunkissed beach -- I found one, perfect, round, white. I knew things were going to somehow be ok.
As the years have passed, each time I'm at the beach, I search for sand dollars. I'm not one to look for or believe in 'signs' but they are just a sweet simple reminder that the things God creates are perfect and that he is always looking out for me. Since that day in Captiva, I've probably found a whopping total of three perfect sand dollars. It is obvious they are rare treasures. But with each find I have been reminded of God's unending love for me.
A few weeks ago I again escaped to Florida, this time on a State Park island off the coast of Ft. Myers. Life again had gotten crazy -- I was fired from the church I loved (who gets fired from a church?!) And as a single mom, being jobless is always a very very scary place to be. I needed to sort out the murky shadows in my heart. as the bleached beaches and the turquoise waters begin to work their magic, I felt glimmers of hope -- hope for something unseen, unnamed, unfelt -- but hope. My handsome kind-hearted son joined me that day and we walked the beach side by side, talking about our lives, our struggles, our fears, and how we more often than not wonder about God's word, his plan, his goodness....does he really want to bless us? Is his word really true? Does he really care?
I'd just prayed for a sand dollar. Call it superstitious. Call it silly. Call it what you want but I prayed for a sand dollar. And within five steps I found one, perfect, round, white. I scooped it up and with delight told him I'd just prayed for one. A few steps later, he let out a "whoa!" -- he'd found one too. He sheepishly admitted he'd just said "Ok, God, why not? Show me a sand dollar". We laughed and felt that childlike wonder that comes when something out of the ordinary happens.
The sun was hanging bright and hot in the late-afternoon sky. The waters sparkled with a million tiny shimmering lights as the sun's rays hit each ripple and wave. All felt right in the world. We noticed that the waves were breaking quite a way out from the shore -- and happily discovered it was a sandbar, a shallow spit of sand that extended out several hundred yards. Combatting our mutual fear of sharks, we ventured out into the warm waters, so clear that we could see our feet. And then -- there at my feet I saw a sand dollar! It was huge! I eagerly reached down and grabbed it then waved it for my son to see. His dark eyebrows shot up and he flashed his winning smile. He suddenly reached down--and came up with a look of surprise holding one of his own! Then I found another, and another, and another, as he did too -- and we spent the next fifteen minutes in sheer amazement as we reached into the waves over and over again as if digging for gold. We waded out of the sea with literally armfuls of sand dollars, grinning at each other in disbelief.
The sun began to set as we walked back toward our campsite, arms loaded with our treasures. And we thought, "Hmmm." Maybe just maybe God DOES want to bless us -- maybe his word IS true -- maybe he really DOES care... way more abundantly that we could even imagine. At a time when we both were questioning God's goodness -- he led us to discover his blessing sometimes come in ridiculous excess. My cup overflows...
I know, they're just sand dollars, one of the millions of shells that wash upon the shores of our earth every day. But for me -- they will continue to be a sweet, gentle kiss from God on my forehead. assurance that he is there, and that he not going anywhere...and that maybe, just maybe, he has blessings so numerous in store for me that I won't be able to hold them all in my arms.
When I was first divorced, sad and scared and confused...I escaped to Captiva Island, Florida with some girlfriends, to try to make sense of the chaos in my soul. While walking alone on the beach one evening, discouraged and desperate, I prayed God would show me one -- just one -- and sure enough, I looked down and there, half-embedded in the sand, was a blessing. My heart leapt as I scooped it up--only to discover it was broken, jagged, sharp edges tinged with black....and a flood of tears hit me. Broken, just like my life. I bitterly flung it out into the crashing surf. I stayed on that beach a long time that night, talking to God, crying, as the sun sank into the horizon turning the sky into pinks, purples and oranges. But as always, with beaches, the waves wash away yesterday's footsteps, a few days later while strolling along that sunkissed beach -- I found one, perfect, round, white. I knew things were going to somehow be ok.
As the years have passed, each time I'm at the beach, I search for sand dollars. I'm not one to look for or believe in 'signs' but they are just a sweet simple reminder that the things God creates are perfect and that he is always looking out for me. Since that day in Captiva, I've probably found a whopping total of three perfect sand dollars. It is obvious they are rare treasures. But with each find I have been reminded of God's unending love for me.
A few weeks ago I again escaped to Florida, this time on a State Park island off the coast of Ft. Myers. Life again had gotten crazy -- I was fired from the church I loved (who gets fired from a church?!) And as a single mom, being jobless is always a very very scary place to be. I needed to sort out the murky shadows in my heart. as the bleached beaches and the turquoise waters begin to work their magic, I felt glimmers of hope -- hope for something unseen, unnamed, unfelt -- but hope. My handsome kind-hearted son joined me that day and we walked the beach side by side, talking about our lives, our struggles, our fears, and how we more often than not wonder about God's word, his plan, his goodness....does he really want to bless us? Is his word really true? Does he really care?
I'd just prayed for a sand dollar. Call it superstitious. Call it silly. Call it what you want but I prayed for a sand dollar. And within five steps I found one, perfect, round, white. I scooped it up and with delight told him I'd just prayed for one. A few steps later, he let out a "whoa!" -- he'd found one too. He sheepishly admitted he'd just said "Ok, God, why not? Show me a sand dollar". We laughed and felt that childlike wonder that comes when something out of the ordinary happens.
The sun was hanging bright and hot in the late-afternoon sky. The waters sparkled with a million tiny shimmering lights as the sun's rays hit each ripple and wave. All felt right in the world. We noticed that the waves were breaking quite a way out from the shore -- and happily discovered it was a sandbar, a shallow spit of sand that extended out several hundred yards. Combatting our mutual fear of sharks, we ventured out into the warm waters, so clear that we could see our feet. And then -- there at my feet I saw a sand dollar! It was huge! I eagerly reached down and grabbed it then waved it for my son to see. His dark eyebrows shot up and he flashed his winning smile. He suddenly reached down--and came up with a look of surprise holding one of his own! Then I found another, and another, and another, as he did too -- and we spent the next fifteen minutes in sheer amazement as we reached into the waves over and over again as if digging for gold. We waded out of the sea with literally armfuls of sand dollars, grinning at each other in disbelief.
The sun began to set as we walked back toward our campsite, arms loaded with our treasures. And we thought, "Hmmm." Maybe just maybe God DOES want to bless us -- maybe his word IS true -- maybe he really DOES care... way more abundantly that we could even imagine. At a time when we both were questioning God's goodness -- he led us to discover his blessing sometimes come in ridiculous excess. My cup overflows...
I know, they're just sand dollars, one of the millions of shells that wash upon the shores of our earth every day. But for me -- they will continue to be a sweet, gentle kiss from God on my forehead. assurance that he is there, and that he not going anywhere...and that maybe, just maybe, he has blessings so numerous in store for me that I won't be able to hold them all in my arms.
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