This was shared in the Christian Lyme Support group on Facebook. I was so blessed by Stephanie's heart and the beauty of her words.
Pain courses through my body...like water slowly dripping, wearing away at the rocks and forming ruts in the stone...
How is it possible for the human body to survive such a continuous torture?
It seems as though there is no hope in sight. No light at the end of the tunnel, just continuous darkness.
Then God reminds me of a most beautiful thought. The ocean. The tide that forever rolls in. Crashing on shore in a never ending dance with the sand. The beach never disappears even though for thousands of years it has been pummeled with sea water. The waves offer small treasures that we may stumble upon as we walk along the hemline of this great and awesome thing called the sea.
Glass that was once sharp and jagged--able to sever veins and tendons--is now a softer color and smooth, rounded and almost soft. If broken glass was found on the sidewalk it would be avoided or discarded, yet after spending time in the ocean being tossed again and again into the sand it is now a treasure sought after and valuable.
A bottle once used to hold liquid, serving a purpose, broken and shattered by great force, endured such an abrasive experience only to become something unique and beautiful.
I feel like a bottle shattered, being tossed again and again in the sand as the waves toss me on shore only to suck me back into the edge of the ocean. The process of being remade into something treasured is such a long and tedious process. My God took this shattered shard of a soul and has tossed it into His ocean of love. Each wave of mercy blends my soul with the sand of grace again and again, slowly wearing away what is sharp and vain and softening edges of selfishness and pride. I'm unable to stop the process just as a piece of glass is unable to leap from the ocean and rest untouched on the land. I don't want to be shattered shards of glass on land waiting to be swept and tossed into the garbage serving no purpose but to be a danger to others who come in contact with it. I want to be sea glass. I want to endure the agony of being smoothed and shaped and tarnished. I want to finally be released from the ocean's grasp and picked up by the nail scarred hands and declared a treasure.
I hope I'm found worthy to be called such a thing.
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