Good morning…
“Gift from the Sea is a book by Anne Morrow Lindbergh first published in 1955,” explains Wikipedia. “While on vacation on Florida’s Captiva Island in the early 1950s, Lindbergh wrote the essay-style work by taking shells on the beach for inspiration and reflecting on the lives of Americans, particularly American women, in the mid-20th century. She shares her meditations on youth and age, love and marriage, peace, solitude, and contentment during her visit.”
I was a junior in high school in 1980, the year I fell in love with Gift from the Sea. I have studied this book repeatedly with different groups of women in our home, and I read it most every year as I retreat to various beaches. Pictured above, I have a copy of the first edition, which was priced at a whopping $2.75, along with a paper back copy and a hard cover 50th anniversary edition. Pictured below, we see that this has been a favorite book for women to gift to other women over the years, in this case “to Elsa from Winifred” on December 25th, 1955.
Why am I telling you nostalgically about this old book on this new morning?
Captiva Island, where Lindbergh retreated to write her beloved classic, is one of the barrier islands off the coast of Florida whose access has been cut off by the collapse of large sections of the Sanibel Causeway, the only roadway connecting the islands to the mainland. Stunning arial photos reveal a shoreline totally decimated by Hurricane Ian. Has the simple home Anne describes as “a bare sea-shell of a cottage” been completely wiped away with its neighbors? Gone forever. Only a sweet memory.
“One is forced against one’s mind, against all tidy resolutions, back into the primeval rhythms of the seashore,” writes Lindbergh on page 16 of her first edition. “Rollers on the beach, wind in the pines, the slow flapping of herons across sand dunes, drown out the hectic rhythms of city and suburb, time tables and schedules. One falls under their spell, relaxes, stretches out prone. One becomes, in fact, like the element on which one lies, flattened by the sea, bare, open, empty as the beach, erased by today’s tides of all yesterday’s scribblings.”
As the sad death toll mounts and the ugly debris piles high, I am so grateful yesterday’s scribblings of Anne Morrow Lindbergh will stay with us forever as an enduring Gift from the Sea. At the same time I lift prayers for those who have lost loved ones and property, livelihood and comfort, solid hope and a place to call home.
Now I turn to page 7 in Simple Faith, the book I am studying with women in our home this semester. Author Margaret Silf writes: “When we express the things we feel most deeply, in the quiet of prayer, we are not really ‘telling God’ our concerns but are bringing them to mind ourselves, in the conscious presence of God. You could say we are bringing them into sharper focus, in the light of God’s love, and exposing them to the beam of that love, whether we are praying for ourselves or someone else.”
God is our shelter and our strength. When troubles seem near, God is nearer, and He’s ready to help. So why run and hide? No fear, no pacing, no biting fingernails. When the earth spins out of control, we are sure and fearless. When mountains crumble and the waters run wild, we are sure and fearless. Even in heavy winds and huge waves, or as mountains shake, we are sure and fearless. [pause] (Psalm 46:1-3, VOICE).
As we prayerfully pause this morning, may we bring the hurricane victims into sharper focus, in the light of God’s love, exposing them to the transformative beam that is love. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7, TLB).
…Sue…
