Broken Pieces

The beauty of the clearest ocean
Breaking gently on the shore,
Foaming fingers rushing forward-
Flowing back-engulfed-no more.

Where the waves have met the shoreline
Broken shells outline each curve.
Somewhat saddened as I search them
In my quest for one superb.

Cause all I see are broken pieces
As I walk along the waves,
Remnants of both shell and starfish-
Not unlike my life these days.

"Pick some up" the spirit prompted,
And in the fragments there I saw
Inherent beauty of God's creation
No storm nor wave could 'ner destroy.

And looking closer in the fragments
There I saw what God sees in all,
Inherent beauty by His design
In each piece both great and small.

It's not the whole that really matters,
For each piece contains His plan.
And if I look at all my my fragments,
I clearly see my Savior's hand.

And as these waves have washed the pieces,
And left them glistening in the sun,
So my fragments are more beautiful
When they're washed in Christ's shed blood.

Oh the vastness of the ocean
And the innumerable shells within;
But I know that each one's precious
And in time will be whole again.

"don't look down at broken pieces,
Lift your face into the Son-
For in the vastness of My presence
All the fragments are held as one"

12/4/2011