kindom musings

Thoughts and musings from a pastor in the peace tradition. Perspectives come from a progressive, justice-minded, feminist position. Responses are welcome.

Name:
Location: Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, United States

I am a Church of the Brethren pastor in my thirties. While I love what I do, I started out with plans to be a veterinarian. God has a great sense of humor, and I wound up in ministry instead. However, my sojourn into veterinary science did make me a vegetarian with a love of animals. (We have two cats and a dog at home -- only a small petting zoo!) My husband is also ordained, and we have a son (LB) and a daughter (KB). My husband keeps me up to date on baseball trivia, and my children keep me giggling. All in all, it makes for a well-rounded life. I was born in Pennsylvania, moved several times for school and work, and have recently returned to my home state. On the Myers-Briggs scale, I'm an INFP.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Finding seashells with my four-year-old -- a poem of sorts

No souvenir shop finds, these shells.
Broken in pieces, picked over by seagulls and punded down by waves.
Even the whole ones are wholly ordinary, small, with no unusual colors or markings.
No wonder they were passed by, passed over by tourists and collectors.

But this was my son's first trip to the beach, first time to see the ocean.
To him, each fragment of shell was precious, beautiful, worth saving.
He placed them in his plastic bucket, selecting them with care,
envisioning sharing them with his pre-school classmates.

Through his eyes, I could see discarded shells with a new perspective.
Who is to say what is beautiful or worth keeping.
Beauty is not solely contained in perfect forms.
In the midst of what seems ordinary, love and wonder create exquisite radiance.

So these bits of shells now live in our home, reminders of a day at the beach.
They are far more valuable than purchased mantle-piece masterpieces,
because these are the shells that delighted my son, filled him with joy and amazement,
and led him to hold my hand and say, "We're friends, right?" Treasures beyond measure.

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