Almost all of the empty shells on the beach reveal a small, round hole.  It is this hole through which they were attacked and killed by a creature that drills into the shell.  A friend on the island collects these shells in varying sizes and fashions them into wind chimes.  Carefully she balances the weight of each shell, combining both thick and thin so there is tone and melody when the wind dances over them.  They are strung together and suspended from her porch ceiling; their sound is music directly from the sea.  Certainly God does that in our lives.  Sin has bored a hole into us, rendering us vulnerable and dead.  But God rescues us, arranges us with others, and from our broken lives he creates beautiful music.  I thank you, Lord, for the song of the seashells and especially I thank you for the song you create from our daily lives with the gift of your Son. Amen.

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