Through Stained Glass: Treasures In a Half Shell

My treasure from a friend. Before the puddles dry up, I challenge you
to look for the places in your yard, the street, or park, that hold water.
When you find them, pause, remember your baptism and be thankful. Then,
share with others where you found these little pools of grace!

It could not have worked out any better.

About 12:45 pm is when the fire alarm started going off. Don’t worry, I didn’t cause it. Nor was there an emergency at all. The internet provider was aware of the outage and would have us up and running by 4:59 pm. With nothing but email and correspondence planned for the afternoon, most of which required the internet, I decided to make the trek home and work there alongside my two Golden assistance, who often provide better commentary than I ever could.

It was 3:13 pm when I looked at my phone and saw an update from the Weather Channel informing me that it was raining outside. One would think I wouldn't need my phone to tell me it is raining outside, but I did. I'm glad it did because it stopped me from working and brought me face to face with a restlessness I've been carrying around.

I don’t know why this happens to me every time it rains. Perhaps the child in me takes literally the story of God hanging her Bow in the air after the flood to remind God’s people of Her promise.
Perhaps it is the inner child in me waging war with the professional adult me insisting I go out in the rain with no shoes on and jump in a puddle.

Maybe it’s the pastor in me that breathes a sigh of relief for our farmers who see their prayers answered.

Maybe it’s the reality that I needed a kind word today, a refreshing word, a cool word, a word that offered assurance that no matter what has happened, I am God’s beloved.

 As I listened to the bird's silence and the flowers slurp up this free drink, something shiny on my patio table grabbed my attention. It was a treasure a friend gifted me with from a recent hike. It wasn't the type of treasure Jack Sparrow sought after, but instead, it was one of those gifts from nature. You know, like a feather from a Bluejay, or a perfectly round rock. In this case, the treasure was two mussel shells sparkling in the rain and dancing in the light of the sun creeping out from behind the clouds.

There’s nothing unusual about this shell. In fact, you could probably go and get one from the same creek they did.

What was different about it today? What about this ordinary shell gave me that peace my spirit needed and the hope my heart desired?

Nothing except instead of the hard outer shell facing up, the underside, or the part where the soft, inner body once resided, was open wide to the rain collecting water--like a pool, or a baptismal font.

Something ordinary and seemingly useless suddenly became a medium for an expression of an inward grace—that God’s here and alive in the world even now.

That’s the story of God though, isn’t it? It is one of relentless pursuit on God’s part and determined resistance on our end. And yet, no matter how much we run amuck and mess things up, God is there to offer forgiveness and healing, rest and assurance that nothing can ever separate us from the love of God.

As the rain lets up, I’m left grateful that the fire alarm went off and the internet was down. I had to change location, and in so doing, was given a new perspective of a shell transformed into a cup of grace.

Maybe I would have missed the storm and the little reminder of God’s goodness in the world. Perhaps not.

What I do know is that today a little after 3:30 pm, I remembered my baptism and was thankful, and it worked out quite alright.