For as long as I can remember, I have collected beach glass. Strolls along the shores of various bodies of water are rarely solely about taking in the beauty that exists when the sky meets the water. My eyes are glued to the sand, scouring the area in front of my feet for shards of glass, whose color is matted and edges softened after being tousled in the waves and by sand for some time. My mom can attest for the multitudes that have been collected over the years and are lying in wait to be used for some creative project for the cottage in Washington.
A few days ago, we were walking around Ocean View, the community we are living and doing ministry in this month in South Africa, praying for the residents and the brokenness that runs rampant. Our group of 14 found ourselves in a grassy park across the street from the home of the biggest drug lord in Ocean View. We spread out and began to pray against the work that this man was doing, crying out to God to invade this broken town and begin to piece it back together again. I found myself walking along the well-worn paths that weave around and through this park, praying for the feet who pass through on a daily basis. My eyes were immediately drawn to the sun’s reflection off of shards of glass from smashed alcohol containers that littered the pathways. Upon closer inspection, I realized how these pieces of glass looked like I could have found them along the shores of any ocean. Their color had been perfectly matted and their edges softened in the way I loved and I was elated. I started picking up pieces that had interesting shapes or unique hues.
As my hands quickly became full with glass, my heart plummeted. I was not casually strolling down on a beach, enjoying a sunset and collecting beach glass. I was in a park, a park that doubles as a hiding spot for drugs when the police decided to raid dealers’ homes. Waves and sand were not gently molding the sharp pieces of glass but instead, their harsh edges were being softened by the constant flow of foot traffic through this park, countless pairs of shoes treading across this central location of Ocean View in search of their next fix or simply passing through en route to their homes.
The glass I had collected in my hands gave a small glimpse into the history of Ocean View, a community riddled by years of drugs and gang violence. But even more significant than highlighting the length of time that this community has struggled, God’s redemption was revealed. God has been (and will continue to be) present through all the horrors and pain that has been experienced in this place. He has been slowly softening the jagged and piercing edges of glass, changing and recycling the shards into something new.
And that’s what I love most about beach glass – the new beauty and potential that each one has. Each piece is uniquely broken and has been remolded, softened and its original character permanently changed. We may be quick to only see shards of glass but God is nudging me to take slow down and see the work He is doing on each piece.
We aren’t all that different from those shards. God is constantly working on us, softening our rough edges and changing the way we see and interact in the world. Where we see brokenness, God sees beauty. Even in areas of our lives that we are quick to write off as “too ugly” or “too complicated”, God is at work, quietly and slowly reworking and recreating what seems unredeemable.
