BLUE SNAIL

Sometimes I feel so alone in the world.















There are times that I am jabbed with the thought like an elbow in the womb.

I could be sitting on the beach having such pleasant thoughts and reveling in the beauty of sand and surf all around me. The air is sweet where grassy fields meet salty spray and sounds of sea gulls carry me to faraway lands and places. Kids laughing and splashing sound just like mine, though they are all grown now.

Sounds and smells so familiar lull me to peaceful serenity every time I sit on the beach. Basking in the sun I find myself in that nether world somewhere between reality and a distant dream. With my bottle of water and lotion, a couple of books in my bag, it is luscious to know I have a couple hours just to think and watch and pray.

I bird watch, I sky watch, and of course, I people watch. They drift by in relaxed chatter. Girls and children giggle, guys flex and act tough, couples hold hands and banter. Some pick up rocks and shells. Some dabble their toes in the cool water. Some jog and some meander. Then when they’ve had enough they pick up all their stuff, so much stuff, and head back to the car.

I am surrounded by little clusters of human groupings, like families, friends and lovers. All polite, but steadfastly distant. Like me they are just here to enjoy the nothingness, the solitude.

People don’t come to the ocean to connect to other people. They come to disconnect from their everyday lives. I think we come to feel a part of something much bigger than one another, and greater than our ordinary lives.

We were made to yearn for timelessness and our inner spirits crave renewal. We come to put our toes in God’s creation and feel that we have brushed up against eternity. When we touch God’s vast creation we touch the hem of his garment. We want to be renewed by the wonder of great deep things, and to feel like a child again. Yes, that’s it. We wade and dabble in the river of life and it makes us feel more alive.

My eyes trace the steps of a loving couple, their hands and arms around each other, laughing as they pass. Then the elbow kicks at my innards awakening the pain of an unseen life. Ouch! It is the life of my true love who has gone on ahead of me and now dips in the true ocean of life on the distant shores.

We used to be like that, I recall with a dreamy smile, watching them pass. We USED TO BE like that! Back when everything used to be “we” and I lived in a married world. A tear emerges from nowhere, crests like the waves rolling in before me, and rolls to the sand. My salt mingles with my salty surroundings. Oh Lord, we were so in love! But I’m not part of the we anymore.

I am like the solitary blue snail that I photographed today.

The people gradually fade into tiny blurs and voices drift away. They will have their dinners, put kids to bed, and find sweet solace in one another's arms. Ho hum.

The sky kaleidoscopes into oranges and pinks drawing my eyes heavenward once again. I took photos of the breathtaking sunset, trying to capture its golden brilliance. Even in its going down I am nearly blinded by its glory.

Oh God, I came to the ocean for renewed hope and perspective. I came for vision and strength. I came to feel a part, but was reminded of my losses. Yet just as the sun goes down every day I know it will return in full renewal. And though I now see only in part, one day my sight will be full.

No matter what jabs my soul or stirs its memories of pain and loss, help me to look ahead to a brighter day. Help me to wait in hope for the luscious and pleasing works you will display. Like a new day, you will arise with grace and healing in your wings.

I may be a blue snail right now. My feet are stuck in this course sand of earth. I can’t even see where I’m going and I don’t understand the plan, but I can hear the water afar off.

I wait for you, Lord God, and look forward to the Day when I will put off this little blue shell and be clothed in newness.


“Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed- in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality… then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’"
1 Cor 15:51-54
NIV