God bless America, land that I love
Stand beside her and guide her
Through the night with the light from above

Because of a series of overwhelming challenges this past month – and truly being too mentally exhausted to write something original, I have decided to include this writing by Bernadette Noll.  The subject of ‘sea glass’ is very near and dear to my heart.  I have a tall bottle of it right full from when my sons were young and we would spend the day on the rocks in Red Beach, Maine looking for the glass.  I cherish that bottle of glass.  It brings back such sweet and precious memories every time I look at it.  The writing below says everything I would want to say if I had ever thought to write an article on ‘sea glass’.  When I read it, I address it to my Creator – praising Him for fearfully and wonderfully making me – for smoothing (refining) me but not breaking me.

‘For My people have forgotten Me, they burn incense to worthless gods and they have stumbled from their ways, from the ancient paths, to walk in bypaths, not on a highway, Like an east wind I will scatter them before the enemy;  I will show them My back and not My face in the day of their calamity.’   – Jeremiah 18:15,17

tad:  a small amount of something.  That’s the dictionary’s definition of the word ‘tad’.  But this is not the ‘tad’ I am writing about.

Several years ago, I taught music at one of the large inner-city high schools in Providence, RI.  Two doors down from my room, was the art room.  I was friends with the art teacher, and every once in awhile on my planning period, I would stick my head in his door to see what medium the students were working on.  On this one particular day, he was teaching pottery – and asked if I wanted to join the class.  I would have loved to have taken the class for the whole term, but was happy to be involved at least that day.  My take-away from that class, for one thing, was how I could make whatever I wanted out of that lump of clay, and even remold and reshape it.   It reminded me of the Master Potter – Whom I tend to want to become at times – forgetting that I am just the lump of clay and that whatever He wants to make of me, and however He wants to shape me is always going to be for my best.  His only interest is of me.