I wrote recently about how finding beach glass reminds me of dating.
I think it reminds me even more of blessings. Those good things in life that lift our spirits, that call out for gratitude.
It takes training my eyes to see them – wanting to see them. And to see them in a range of colors and shapes and sizes.
It means taking the time to stop and bend down to pick them up. Most days, my collection reflects the time I’ve spent stopping and looking.
But then there are those tiny, rare pieces of blue beach glass. When they come to me, they feel like a promise.
It’s been a summer full of transitions (on top of a year full of transitions, on top of a few years full of transitions). Some have been painful and some hopeful and some both at the same time. None have been easy.
The first piece of blue beach glass I found felt like the blessing of a promise – “there is more goodness, love, and beauty ahead than you imagine.”
I’m not superstitious. I don’t think blue sea glass is a sign from God. But it has become an icon of hope for me.
Each weekend since that first piece, as I’ve walked the beach and prayed (or tried), a piece of blue sea glass has come to me, each one feeling like a small miracle.
Maybe not all miracles need to be supernatural. Maybe some of them can be bits of brokenness, tossed among the rocks and sand again and again until the edges wear down and something that is smooth and whole all on its own remains.
Maybe some miracles can be found in the rare gift that comes from nature and the world and all we put into it. When things come together to deposit a small, brilliant piece of blue beach glass at your feet.
And maybe some miracles can be found in the gift of eyes and time to see and receive them.
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