SEA GLASS
ALM No.93, September 2026
ESSAYS
This summer our family visited Deal Island. One of the pleasures there is walking the beach looking for sea glass.
Sea glass is broken glass from old bottles and jars that has been tossed into the Chesapeake Bay. After years of being tumbled around by the waves and sand, the sharp edges are smoothed away, and eventually it washes ashore. What was once discarded becomes something people treasure.
As I walked the beach, it occurred to me that my own life is a little like that.
Over the years I've accumulated so many experiences, ideas, dreams, conversations, disappointments, insights, and lessons. Some stay with me. Others seem to disappear completely. An idea pops into my head, sinks to the bottom somewhere, and I forget all about it.
Then years later it resurfaces.
An old conversation suddenly makes sense. A lesson I thought I'd forgotten becomes useful. An experience from decades ago finds its way into a sermon, a classroom discussion, a hospital visit, or a conversation with a friend.
And many things never seem to come back at all.
Or maybe they do. Maybe they're still down there somewhere, getting tumbled around.
Who knows?
The older I get, the more I realize how unpredictable life really is.
Looking back, though, I can see that very little is wasted. God seems to have a way of using everything.
What looks broken is not necessarily lost.
What disappears is not necessarily gone.
And what seems unfinished may simply be waiting for the right time to wash ashore.
I trust more and more that something is happening beneath the surface, even when I can't see it.
I know it’s true for sea glass.
Maybe it’s true for me as well.
William P. Selig, D.Min., is a retired board-certified chaplain, educator, and writer living in Northern Virginia with his wife, Donna. They enjoy spending time with family, especially their four grandchildren.
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