Transformation

Last week we visited a beach in Anacortes, WA for some summer fun. I have a ritual whenever I'm on a beach of any sort. I hunt for bits of colored, sea-polished glass. My family often participates in my search for the rare shards, and this time, everyone wanted to help.

I've learned the best place to look for sea glass is right where the waves lap at the shore, under the layers of sediment. I found my first chunk in a shade of orange-red and held it up for my rummaging family to see, "Found Some!"

One by one we each found a piece, except for my son, Ben. Just as he was about to give up, he hit some kind of sea glass haven and the pieces just kept coming, along with his excited whoops.

I gathered all the colorful pieces together in my lap, 19 in all. I was amazed. Usually I'm lucky to find three in a trip. Why do I take the time to look for these pieces of glass that most often took the form of a bottle holding beer in a former life? Something discarded and littering the water?

I think it's the fact that a massive body of water consumes something fragile, with sharp edges, that is broken and lost. As the sea constantly churns, the waves pound the glass, rushing over it again and again, making it into something new, something smooth and beautiful. A sort of treasure in the rubble.

It reminds me of what Christ can do in a life. The amazing, often difficult, but always glorious transformation of a broken life, in to a precious gift. The process is to much to grasp, and yet His constant presence and love cause the transformation.