The Shell That Talked {and the God who cares}

We got to go to the beach the other day, and it was just glorious. I love to pick up a few special shells to add to my collection each time we’re there, a decorative keepsake of wonderful memories. Usually I gravitate towards the bigger shells, or ones that still have their color–as yet unbleached white by the sun, or a piece of washed up coral or a sand dollar…

But this trip, my favorite shell was different.

And more real than a child putting his ear to a conch shell to “hear the sea,” that little shell spoke to me.

You see, sometimes I believe the lie that God is not really interested in the details of my life, the million miniscule things I’m embarrassed I’ve asked for in prayer… Or the million more I’ve thought too inconsequential with which to even bother Him.

But that intricately woven little shell–washed up on the beach amongst trillions of other shells and shards and grains of sand–was so beautifully made and full of detail that the banner of God’s love it represented was so much greater than its diminutive size.

Because I thought… If God is interested enough to weave such intricate detail into such an object, surely He is just as (or even more) interested in the details of my life, His own daughter.

How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand” (Psalm 139:17-18a).

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:26).

So, sweet friends, maybe God is trying to speak His love to your heart this week through His creation? Do tell!


Maybe you’d enjoy these other words of encouragement?


5 responses to “The Shell That Talked {and the God who cares}

  1. God is truly an amazing, caring, detailed Creator!! My favorites are heart-shaped items in nature–a piece of wood, a leaf, a rock, etc. Coming across them is no accident and I love seeing an “I love you” from my Father in that tangible way. A couple years ago, as I stood in the shell of what would be our house, eight-months-pregnant, cold from the Wyoming January outside, I cried overwhelmed tears. There seemed to be no way we could get the house done before baby #3 arrived in March and five people in a 300 sq foot “temporary” camper was weighing heavy on my heart. As the girls napped I was in the house to sweep up sawdust for my husband, who was at work. Anything I could possibly do to speed the progress was good! As I pregnantly hunkered down to gather up the sawdust I saw one non-wood item in the overflowing dustpan. It was a rock. And it was unmistakably shaped like a tiny heart. I tear up even to this day, remembering how God seemed to kneel down in the wood scraps and dust with me, comforting me and letting me know He was sovereign in it all and cared about every detail.


  2. Pingback: We Have No Idea « He Dwells — The B'log in My Eye·

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