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A Pearl in My Heart


If you've known me for long, or brought up the subject of jewelry or the beach in my presence, you probably know that I love pearls, and am capable of going on about them for quite awhile. The gems photographed above are stitch markers, made by a lovely artist I know. She knits, and quilts, and weaves baskets, and does beadwork (and probably some other things that I'm forgetting) - and everything she does, she does for a reason and gives it a name. She named these "a pearl in my heart" and made them to sell at a craft show, but when I admired them she kindly gave them to me.

Their name struck me. I've seen pearls as a metaphor on inner beauty (the miss-shapenness of the oyster contrasted with the perfection of the gem within) but a new thought came to my mind today; this concept of a pearl in one's heart.

We've all been hurt, somehow, at some point, by someone or some thing. Emotional scars cut deep, and often fester, refusing to heal - in the same way a shard of sand cuts into an oyster. But they have a better solution - cover it with beauty. Instead of dwelling on the pain and allowing the memory to hurt us far more than the initial thing could ever have, allowing God to help us lacquer it with love and forgiveness, patiently persisting until it is no longer an object of bitterness but a shining gem; a testament to God's power to heal and renew. It may take some time, but I think it can be done, and I hereby resolve to stop meditating on every wrong I think that anyone has ever done me and to start focusing on the beautiful layers of grace and love that I've been blessed with.

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