Oceans of Grace

The blue of the sky was two shades deeper than it had been any of the other days that week. The salt air carried the weight of winter on its breeze, but the warmth of the sun held the promise of spring. Laughter, slightly muted by the rhythmic surf, carried across the sunbaked sand.

My three-year-old daughter came running over to where I leaned against a giant piece of driftwood, her blond curls bouncing with each excited step. She proudly announced she had found the fanciest rock in the whole wide world and held out her dimpled hand to reveal her discovery.

What she clenched in her toddler grip wasn’t a rock at all, and its smooth surface shimmered in the sunlight like a gemstone. The translucent shade of turquoise reminded me of crystal-clear waters captured in images on postcards from paradise.

It was sea glass, and it was love at first sight.

We spent the rest of our afternoon pacing the water’s edge, heads down and eyes straining. By the time the sun was dipping below the horizon, we had collected a handful of treasure in glittering shades of blue, white, green, and purple. When we got home, we placed our treasure in a small glass bowl on our kitchen windowsill and pulled out the computer for an impromptu science lesson.

Sea glass originates from pieces of ordinary glass jars, bottles, windows, or containers—items we might consider trash. They somehow end up in the ocean where the salty waves and the pull of the tides tumble them around and around. Over the course of years—even decades—the shards of glass take on a frosted appearance. The sharp edges are worn away until each piece of glass becomes a smooth, soft, colorful work of art.

A few days after our treasure hunt on the shore, I was asked to speak at an event and share a story of how the Lord brought me through a tough time. Memories flooded my mind, and I had a terrible time narrowing my focus to just one story. I decided to open my journal and list all the possible choices. Soon I realized my list would seem overwhelmingly negative to anyone who stumbled upon it. Without knowing the context or the outcomes, their first impression would be of challenges, problems, and hardships.

I’m sure each one of us could fill pages with moments of pain or uncertainty; the Bible promises we’ll walk through tough times. We see in chapter 16 of the book of John that Jesus said, “In this world you will have trouble” (v. 33 NIV). It’s true that we’ve all had our share of brokenness.

I’ve found we’re often tempted to hold on to those moments, those broken pieces, and dwell on the details. It’s as if we hold that brokenness in our hands and run our fingers back and forth over the sharp edges, remembering the pain. In my experience, the inevitable outcome is more pain because I eventually reopen old wounds. Over the years and through the trials, I’ve finally learned there’s a better way to handle my broken pieces.

John 16:33 has more to it than Jesus’s promise of trouble: “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” And throughout Scripture, God promises to always be with us. One of my favorite places is Isaiah 43:2, where the Lord says to the people through the prophet Isaiah, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you” (NIV).

When we look back on our troubled times through the lens of the Lord’s promises, we’re able to focus more on the outcomes. We can see how God brought us through and how he never left our side. We can see how he strengthened us and held us up. We can see how he provided for our needs.

Just like the seas do with pieces of glass, oceans full of grace and love from our Savior soften the painful edges of our memories. The ugly shards of broken dreams and dashed expectations are transformed by the power of his mercy. Painful moments once jagged and sharp become testaments of the Lord’s faithfulness.

The popularly expressed thought that we’ll never be given more than we can handle is absolutely false. At some point in our lives, we will certainly be asked to carry more than we can bear. The beautiful truth is that we’ll never be asked to carry it alone.

The details and circumstances may change from my stories to yours, but one thing remains constant—the Lord will see us through. Soon, just as we do with sea glass, we’ll hold those memories in our hands and run our fingers over the smooth edges. We’ll be able to look past the fear and worry and see the beauty and glory of God’s goodness.

Ashley Doyle Pooser is a wife and a mom of three. She recently moved to Atlanta, where she’s trying her best to be a responsible adult but feels like she’s mostly flying by the seat of her pants. She blogs at ashleydoylepooser.com.

Photograph © Sara Codair, used with permission