This giant razor-back clam shell was a swap from a deep sea diver who rode the commuter van to work. Turns out, he collected shark's teeth, and so my Granddaddy's super large shark's tooth was my end of the trade.
This morning my heart is grieving. I recall Mom's last days in hospice. I can almost hear her voice comforting me, assuring me that she is happy now. She wants me to be happy, too. While I was soaking in the tub, feeling flat and lifeless, I asked Jesus what to blog about today?
Two large conch shells on the bath tub ledge had also been gifts from the sea. During my daily seaside sunrise walk with the Lord, a message would turn up along the way.
Some days the beach would be littered with sunglasses, or goggles, diver's masks. A message to keep my eye on Him.
Other times, I would find vessels of all shapes and sizes: sand buckets, plastic cups, etc. reminding me that we are each a vessel for God.
Often little shells had washed up on the wet sand glistening in the sunlight. The bigger shells were always broken. At the time, my husband and I were going through financial challenges. I put it out there that if God loved me I would find a perfect large conch shell, but they were always broken in the rushing tide. Time passed and my wish was forgotten.
Then, one morning, while walking in the shallow surf, a big powerful wave surged toward the sandy shore, and quickly receded out again, exposing the bare ocean floor.
Down at my feet, the tip of a large conch shell bubbled up from the watery sands. "Thank you, Holy Spirit!" I laughed. Digging it out, to my delight, it was perfectly whole. The outer shell was darkened having been buried so long.
Farther along, soon more bubbles appeared. Another whole conch appeared, almost identical in size and color. It had been worth the wait. Now I had one for Elliot, too. I marveled at how both inner shells were orange and glossy, untouched by their outer experiences.
I was so grateful that our double for your trouble delivery had washed ashore at the perfect time in the perfect shape. A blessing to know God is always with us. He never stops loving.
So the memory of these two special conch shells this morning, delivered another message. I put the shell up to my ear and listened to the soothing sound of the waves. That empty shell had once been home to the seafaring conch, but Spirit lives on forever...
Enjoy your day with the Angels.
Love and blessings,
Rae Karen
