There are times when we just know something; we know them with a certainty that defies any logic. Normally, if I drop a cookie at home and it hits the floor, I am not scared to pick it up and take a bite. Three-second rule, anyone? But not lately. Lately I am almost scared to even walk on our floors, because with the current cycle of busyness one thing that there just doesn’t seem time to embrace is cleaning. I know with that same logic-defying certainty that I am not eating a cookie that even passes reasonably close to the floor in it’s current condition. Okay, I am exaggerating, but it is dirtier than I am comfortable with right now.
The reason for the lack of time for cleaning right now is because Cristy and I prayerfully embraced a ‘new beginning’ in our lives, that we hope will eventually lead to more time to spend on family and ministry. We are making furniture and art pieces out of reclaimed wood, and that part of it is coming along nicely.
We start with materials that are crusted in dirt and grime; scarred up wood that saw better days in the previous century sometime, and these remnants have been deemed not worth using and thrown into a trash or burn pile. This is stuff that the world, in its magnificent wisdom has deemed worthless and given up on applying any further effort to it. I can relate to the wood. I was like that once not too terribly long ago.
The materials that we use get sanded down, sometimes revealing startlingly wonderful grains and patterns. And they are used in producing anything from bookshelves to a play kitchen for a child, and in the process of this, they are turned into something not just useful, but often times beautiful too. That’s what God the Father sees in us. He looks past the dirt and filth that we and the world around us cake onto us liberally. He sees the beauty that He originally imbued us with and the plans that He intended. And in His grace, He washes away that miry clay from us and makes us new again.