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Grief is like the sea; it’s never stationary for long. It flows ~ it’s intensity unexpected. Grief takes your heart to the edge of the water ~ that place on the shore where people stroll searching for the perfect seashell. But it is there that grief pulls your heart into the deep. And it is dark and lonely in the depths of the ocean.

Waves roll in gently. Others crash to shore, carrying pieces of jagged shells. The pain momentarily unbearable.

But among the brokenness, beauty and light shine through the swirling water. The sea calms, and intact shells wash ashore and lay on the beach among the pebbles and fragments. Grains of sand that catch the sun create a golden sparkle. 

My heart longs to be there ~ where the shells with delicate spirals and soothing colors of pale pink and tan create a peaceful scene on the shore.

A place where the heart knows grief, but its pain no longer has the power to overwhelm.

A place where people stroll to find the perfect shell ~ or even just a piece of one. A fragment that still captures the beauty of what once was.