When we first arrived to our condo for the week, I raced down to the beach to feel the sand melt between my toes and let the ocean kiss my feet. I walked and skipped a little down the shoreline and was amazed by the number of beautiful seashells lining my walk. The colors and designs were striking and intricate, and even the broken ones were lovely in my esteem. They obviously had gone through some challenges, but they were still awe-inspiring to stare at and stroke.
Heading back to our unit, I stopped at the showers to wash the sand off my shells. The lady in the condo next door to us came by and was amazed by my newfound treasures. She had yet to go walking to see how abundant the shells were. Spontaneously, I offered her my best one and she was so delighted. I felt a little sad when she took it, but happy in my heart. I was certainly rewarded tenfold by the end of the week.
On the second day, I set out to walk the beach at a swift pace for exercise, determined not to be derailed by seashells, but I could not resist them. I ended up stopping every few minutes and gathered what I could hold.
A lady saw my bulging fists and offered me a sack. She lovingly joked that after a few days, I will get more selective. She was right, but only by necessity, or we would have had to ship a large box of seashells home.
On the third day, I headed down the beach for my walk, carrying my sack just in case there was ONE shell or TWO that I couldn’t resist. But only a few steps into my walk, I saw a lady with bulging fists and offered her my sack. Seemed like a good chance to pay it forward and she was thrilled.
When I turned around to keep going, I saw a near perfect shell. I scooped it up and ran it back to her, and she thanked me. I didn’t tell her that she might need to get more selective. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I hope she kept everything she thought was beautiful.
Now back home, I treasure all of the shells I collected, even the broken ones. But that’s because I am broken also, and still beautiful. It’s taken me a long time to realize that though. We are so conditioned to admire and elevate only the most perfect, the most beautiful among us. Too often we compare and despair. This stacked deck is only an illusion though, because every single one of us does this. No matter how well off others may think we are, we manage to find others to compare
ourselves to and come out on the short end.
In Finding the Gift on June 9, I shared this excerpt:
Not long ago, I watched an interview with acclaimed actor, Dustin Hoffman, regarding his experience becoming a woman for the movie "Tootsie." He wanted them to make him up as a beautiful woman, but was told they already did the best they could do. Hoffman knew what an interesting person he was on the inside, beneath the wig and the dress, and tearfully, he expressed a profound sadness, realizing how many interesting women he personally had missed getting to know, simply because they
didn’t measure up to society’s standard of female beauty.
This applies to brokenness too. We’ve all been broken by life, just like the seashells. But we’re still here! We are stronger for it. We are all the more beautiful and wiser because of our difficulties. Let us not wish away the brokenness, lest we wish away all the beautiful life that came with it, and in many cases, the gifts that are a direct result of those challenges.
I never mastered walking that shell-laden beach fast-paced for exercise. I think the longest I went was fifteen minutes before I caved and let myself start leaning down again every few minutes to grab another seashell. But they spoke to me constantly and said, Pick me, take me, I’m special. And they were!
I am glad for the reminder that all of the seashells are special, even and especially the broken ones—just like each one of us.
Today, I encourage you to consider that your broken pieces are just as lovely as every other wonderful part of you. Because they are.
