As shared here previously (…Immortal Flowers…) my precious Mama was a huge groupie of Amy Carmichael, an Irish author and activist who established a ministry in India to rescue young girls from sex trafficking and provide a safe sanctuary for them.
While searching in a drawer this week for something, I found a card Mama sent me eons ago during my first year working overseas in a challenging place. In her precious handwriting, Mama wrote out the following poem in its entirety with an addendum:
“Thought you might like this poem – our little shell you are. Never forget to let the Lord fill your life to overflow.”
Upon the sandy shore an empty shell,
Beyond the shell infinity of sea;
O Saviour, I am like that empty shell;
Thou art the Sea to me.
A sweeping wave rides up the shore and lo,
Each dim recess the coiled shell within
Is searched, is filled, is filled to overflow
By water crystalline.
Not to the shell is any glory then:
All glory give we to the glorious sea.
And not to me is any glory when
Thou overflowest me.
Sweep over me, Thy shell, as low I lie,
I yield me to the purposes of Thy will;
Sweep up, O conquering waves, and purify.
And with Thy fullness fill.
Sometimes it’s easy to let the nothingness of our lives (especially during a global pandemic) overwhelm our hearts and minds.
On this Sunday maybe it’s a good idea to ask Jesus to fill up the empty places in our lives with the fullness of His presence, the fullness of His love.
grace, peace & overflowing shells
Virginia : )
p.s. Virginia will be away this week, thus sporadically available in the blogosphere. (Altho she’s scheduled a few posts to keep faithful readers occupied ‘til she returns…)