Bucket in hand, almost as tall as he is…the bottom covered in sand from being dragged down the beach.
Every shell he sees he quickly grabs with excitement and places it within his bucket. No shell is off limits…even the damaged and broken ones he is looking to collect.
For years this thought has captivated me about broken shells. The tiny fragile pieces of creation that take a beating from the waves of the ocean. They toss up on the shore wrecked and torn.
My children have never passed up a shell…no matter how much it is damaged.
God sees us the same. Even though we come tossed ashore missing pieces, cracked, shattered and discarded…God collects us with excitement and tenderly places us in His bucket. He sees our potential, He sees so much more than our brokenness, He sees beauty when a world sees broken…He sees useful when a world sees useless.
No matter how broken God is willing to display His treasure, He is willing to love even the broken places when we surrender them to Him. I am grateful God collects broken things.