The rush to find the perfect shell after the storm finds beach goers walking the surf and sifting through the sand with a critical eye. A piece broken, half a shell and it is tossed back into the ocean as if of no worth. The tide rolls in creating a new playground of shells of which to sift. Gently the sun sinks into the ocean...the day complete, the perfect shell never found. Tomorrow, tomorrow will bring about another hunt, another search for that perfect shell. As the sun awakens the day, beach goers gather along the shore, most in search for the perfect shell. The waters swell making for a difficult hunt yet many persist until finally, the perfect conch found rolling among the ripples of the surf. There, in the open, the perfect shell found as if waiting to be discovered. A loud cheer echoes against the roar of the ocean and the conch is passed from person to person as if it were a trophy; a trophy of the ocean. This trophy taken home, adored by all and set aside only to be quickly forgotten as the busyness of the life overshadows the peace of the retreat to the sea; but this perfect shell, this conch, has a story...
Birthed in shallow waters as tiny larvae, the conch feeds on surrounding plankton, relying on them for nutrition. Well fed,the larvae grow losing its translucent snail covering forming its shell. As years pass its pointy spines once used for protection dull and become less prominent for the protection once offered is no longer needed. The conch has grown, the once translucent, soft casing has molded into a strong, white shell of beauty; the conch. Sought by beach goers yet offering protection from its ocean predators, the conch continues to grow becoming more beautiful, with bouts of color. Maturation continues as the conch makes its way to the deepest waters where it will thrive for years until the day when the harsh winds blow and the mighty ocean roars with prejudice unearthing the now mature conch from its place of rest. Wave after wave tosses the conch about; it is uncertain if the conch will withstand the harsh waters and wash ashore whole. The final waves crash along the break and the conch rolls along the shore. Attempting to make its way back into the ocean, the conch uses the undertow, rolling away from shore but another wave crashes carrying the conch, again, to shore. Stuck in an infinite loop, the conch wavers between surf and shore for hours until a beach goers finally notices the football-like shape rolling along the sand and claims it as their prize. The story of the conch is much like our story of faith...the gift of faith, given to us at birth, is greatly nourished by the love of those individuals who care for us, who feed our bodies, console our crying and swaddle us to sleep. It is here when we begin to grow, we begin to feel alive and life surrounds us with beauty, with love for faith the treasure is slowly unwrapped and put into practice. Much like the conch and its spiky horns, faith protects us as we learn and grow for when we grow weary we just need to ask for the Father's help and He will envelope us in His love. Listen to the heart, faith whispers, faith speaks for it is our guide to the soul, to the connection with the Father which we seek, which we long. Class after class and question after question, faith, like the soft, translucent shell of the conch begins to harden and become a more permanent fixture in our lives. Religions, dogmas and doctrines are studied and church attended all with the hope that faith will strengthen, faith will blossom and God's love, the beauty of this world will be revealed with eyes of love, and hearts of truth thus allowing faith to be the guiding force of life. Setbacks occur for the mere truth of humanity invites doubt, it invites confusion, it invites misdirected thoughts but the shell of faith has already formed, it may not yet be a beautiful shell of milky white but it is no longer translucent and we wade in the waters of life ever growing, ever hoping in a tomorrow of love. Eventually, we make our way to the depths of the sea, living our lives of faith perpetuated by waves of hope, creatures of love and strength of the soul...our shell now hard for faith envelopes our being that we may listen to the words of the heart, the words of God. Treacherous storms approach, the devastation which life carries hits home and we feel as though we were tossed about like the conch among the waves. Some conches break as they make their way to shore, they chip or crack and wash up along shore as only a part of the whole they once were; never able to again become complete. Then there are some which remain intact along their journey, they are found along the shore as beautiful, whole, unblemished conches. As persons of faith, we have the ability to remain unscathed by life for faith our cushion, faith our protection offering joy and love even in our darkest hours. The beauty of the conch is but a mere reflection of the beauty of our faith for though tossed about in the waves of life, it retains its beauty, its vibrancy, it protective coating that we may continue to thrive in the Father's love, in the Father's promise of peace. We are the prize, beings of faith filled with the love of the Father, we are the prize sought after. Walking along the shore, searching for that perfect shell, the sands sparkle as the waters return to the sea; here the prize claimed for here a reflection of beauty, a reflection of love, a reflection of faith presents itself in the person of self. Each step taken and the reflection still present, the waves crash to shore and the reflection still looking back. Stop and look, you the reflection, you the prize...continue your beach walk, continue the the hunt for shells knowing you are the perfect shell of faith.
A trophy of sorts
A prize claimed along the shore
Beautiful
Strong
Confident
Patient
Trusting
Faith, the lace interwoven in each
The sun shining on this trophy
Reflections of the waters illuminate such a prize
People scatter about
Silent introspection
Could it be?
How could this be?
The reflection recognized
For the Son illuminates the heart
Eyes of truth in the discovery
The world disappears
For a moment, the ocean, itself, is quiet
Reaching for a shell
Looking back is the prize
A long reach and the reflection reaches back
Awareness
Faith
Words of the heart spoke
God present
God alive
Looking back
Wishing
Hoping
Praying
Accept this prize
Accept you
Faith your shell of protection
Through the brutality of the waves
And I your heart
Claim your prize
Claim you as I do
The ocean again roars
People scamper about the beach
Sun still shining
The reflection prominent
Beauty prominent
With shell in hand, you stand
Turning toward the sun, you nod
The prize accepted
Claimed as your own
Forever a trophy of faith
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