Think Like An Oyster



I am a woman obsessed with pearls.


Delicate and hypnotic, I love to watch the way each one catches the light, reflecting a soft, ethereal glow.

Here are the top three reasons why everyone should be obsessed with pearls.


First, they symbolize the secrets of the heart: hidden wisdom, the discovery of heaven-on-earth, and tears of joy.

Second, you can often find pearls in thrift stores, like I do. It’s a little tricky to tell a real pearl from a fake one, but once you master the secrets (which you can learn anywhere online) it gets easier. I pay as little as $3 for some strands, even the ones with gold clasps.


Don’t think pearls are always white, either. My collection includes black Tahitian, South Sea, fresh water, dyed, Baroque, and of course, the classic white opera-length strand. For my many evenings at the opera.


(Which is my kitchen on Friday nights. Pavarotti on Spotify while I make pizza.)

Here is the third and most wonderful reason to be utterly obsessed with pearls:


Pearls are the embodiment of the promise that good will overcome evil.

Each pearl began as the smallest injury or insult, a breach of manners that none of us noticed.

The oyster noticed, though. It mulled it over. Quietly. In darkness. Day after day.

Layer upon layer, covering that affront with goodness until beauty was all that remained. And we’re proud to display what remained.

If we drilled down to the center of these beauties, would we see the insult or injury that began the good work? Why would we want to? It cannot be undone.


All that matters is how the oyster responded.

Someday, all that will remain from today is my response.

That statement makes me reconsider the things I think about, and how I think about them, in the dark of night. I had no idea my inner thoughts would make such a pronounced appearance into the world someday, but they do. I see that principle all the time now.

A friend of mine recently endured an unimaginable tragedy. She told me she can only speak the truth now. I would be reminded of Cassandra, but my friend’s story is infinitely more hopeful. She can only speak the truth, and when she does, the truth sounds very much like love.

And I think of her, what terrible events she must have to mull over, in the darkness, day after day. But somehow, she responds with love. A quiet outpouring of it, day after day. Her response touches us all and makes us want to be better humans. She is leaving a powerful legacy.

Someday, I’ll leave my collection of thrift store pearls to my girls. And whatever events, insults and setbacks I have mulled over in the darkness, well, that creates something I will leave to them as well.


When my life’s labor is finished, I hope it will be something very much like a pearl. I hope it will be love.

The Art of Helping Others

Want to know what fuels the creative fire of one of the most gifted visual artists I know? Read on…

I’ve been reading an advance copy of THE ART OF HELPING OTHERS by Douglas C. Man, IVP Press, and it’s powerfully good. Mr. Mann believes that art can be a form of social justice, and both can be powerful expressions of faith.

I’ve known Doug for several years, and his art is thought-provoking and stunning…so I was excited to read this “behind the scenes” work on how he creates, and why. He views art as a form of incitement:

“The world is not clean, nice and orderly, tailor made for our own creative expression. It is in a perpetual state of formidable disarray. Yet many of us imagine it to be well and good and fit to suit. And then we wonder why life doesn’t work out, why we suffer. It takes creative people to see the world for what it is, to discern the human condition. To practice creativity is to be more keenly aware of the complexity of the world, to recognize its fragile, fractured soul. It takes creative people to awaken that awareness in others. Creativity can beget creativity.”

I love that idea; that we must keep our creative fires going, in part, because we keep the world’s creative fires alive. Wanting to know more about how Doug creates, I asked Doug what his one tip was for operating at peak creativity. Here’s what he answered:

“I believe it’s pushing myself to move into others lives, even those that aren’t so lovable in order that they enter into the discovery process of my faith.  It’s the art of conversation, the art of helping others, which leads to the art of story. As a writer, it’s also equally important for me to have time to allow for alone time – to dive deep like a swimmer diving down to retrieve a pearl from the ocean floor, and eventually resurfacing with something to say.”

Loving the unlovable leads to the art of story. Wow; as a writer, he’s onto something here. I am loving the book and I recommend you get your own copy here: