These past couple of months in Portugal has revealed a true Christian mystery to me, ie an experience that only can be explained as a spiritual phenomenon.
I like picking seashells. Some are simply pretty and common, fresh new energy manifested as beautiful gifts from the ocean. It reminds me of how Africans used to use a certain kind as money before bills and coins. Some seashells mirror things to me, besides what I see when I'm out walking. It's like an artist has drawn little dots or made it into specific forms, colors or shapes to resemble something I have just seen or written, things that are part of my life, pointed to me by my angel. In this lies a sense of equal harmony being created by God. (I even have a light yellow one, showing Jesus, after my light yellow icon card with him had become torn in my purse.)
One day when I came to Mass in the Estoril church, I noticed how the cups and bowls used for communion has a figure resembling a seashell as decoration, hanging over the bread.
Today, when I got to step in the room behind the altar in Cascais church, I looked up to the ceiling and saw a painting of a young woman part of a cloud around the sun, in the shape of a mirror with a face.
Let his face shine upon you, too.