My grandmother’s jar of pebbles sits on my bathroom counter beside a handful of shells and a stack of coral. She collected ocean rocks. They’re all warn smooth from the waves and the constant pounding against each other before she gathered them up to put in her jar.

They’re beautiful because of how smooth and shiny they are. They’re smooth and shiny because of the friction and abrasion they endured. It seems like such a simple lesson. The difficulties in life shape us and make us beautiful.

I wish it were really that simple.

I wish I could just smile and endure the tough times, knowing that I will be a butterfly on the other side. But instead, sometimes those tough times just drag on and on. Sometimes I feel more like a battered moth or a scraggly caterpillar.

I wish I could see the potential and possibility in each rain cloud. Instead, I often get angry quickly and speak out too loudly. I become frustrated. I curl up on my couch and stop communicating with the outside world. I become me-focused and ignore the others.

I wish I could see the harder moments in life as growth opportunities. Instead, I tend to be a runner. I want to give up when I come across the first unexpected obstacle.

Maybe it’s from all the moving we did when I was younger. While it wreaked havoc with my social life, it did give me a plethora of fresh starts. I kind of miss that a bit. I think it’s easier to start over than to try to fix some of the messy situations I find myself in.

But maybe it really is that simple.

Maybe if I could just step back far enough, I could see the growth. Maybe I could see the potential and the possibility. Maybe I could see the beauty.

So, I put down the jar of pebbles. I set down the pen and notebook. I set aside the scorecard that I’ve been using to grade my progress. I pick up my Bible, and I climb the mountain to meet with Abba.

Because climbing the mountain gives perspective.

From the mountaintop, I see more clearly. And I realize that it’s God in me that will make me beautiful. When His Love is shining through my eyes and His Hope is working through my hands. When His Words whisper or shout through my lips – that’s when I begin to shine. I might give off glimpses of sparkles now and then, but just wait until you see me in Heaven!

I head back down the mountain toward a fresh start, a rough pebble slowly wearing smooth.