I’m starting a blog- here’s why

It’s Monday night. People are rolling their trash cans down to the curb. The tree lawn is laden with all manner of last week’s garbage. There, amid the trash cans overflowing with empty food cartons, dirty napkins, chicken bones, old shoes and junk mail, I spot it - a treasure! It doesn’t quite look like much yet. The drawers are wonky, there is something sticky on the surface which has been covered by layers of dust and dirt, and there is a large scratch down one side. But I see something of beauty. Something that tells a story. I screech to a halt, pop the trunk and have one of the kids help me load it into the back of my suburban. I love it already!

c is always a willing helper in my adventures!

When I get it home, the transformation begins.  Scrubbing, sanding, cleaning… just enough to clear away the dirt and grime.  But all of those scratches and dings - they need to stay.  They are the scars.  They give the piece its character.  The dresser gets painted, and I decide that a light distressing will enhance the look.  During the final steps, wax is worked into the entire piece and then it is buffed.  All those imperfections are highlighted by the wax finish.  They are where the beauty shines the most.  It reminds me of a song by Point of Grace…”Heal the wound, but leave the scar.  A reminder of how merciful you are.  I’ve been broken, torn apart.  Take the pieces of this heart, and heal the wound but leave the scar.”

It’s those broken parts of our lives that people are drawn to.  Because they can relate to us; because they can feel safe in our presence knowing that we don’t have it all together either. 

I’m going to let you in on a little conversation that has been going on inside my head for the past few years. I remember the day this dialogue began.  I had started painting furniture for other people who found my fledgling business through Facebook.  I thought I was doing pretty well establishing myself as a furniture artist.  And then one day, when my sister was in town, we took a stroll through our adorable little town square which is a melting pot of historic, sweet, hip, and nostalgic shops.  What I realized as we went from the boutiques to restaurants to trendy new stores was this: EVERYBODY is painting furniture.  Seriously, there were pieces EVERYWHERE!  I could not believe how much painted furniture I saw in the span of 2 hours.  And just as I was sinking into a funk and realizing that my talent is as common as table salt I heard in my mind, “But nobody can tell your story.”  And an argument ensued in my head. It went like this:

Me: “Everybody and their brother is painting furniture!”

Little Voice: “But nobody else can tell YOUR story.”

Me: “But nobody even cares about my story.”

Little Voice: “Tell it anyway.”

Me: “There are already enough books, and blogs, and speakers out there.  I have nothing new to say!”

Little Voice: “Tell it anyway.  Tell it because your story really isn’t about you.  It is about God.  HE is the beauty in your brokenness. It’s really not even your story, it’s His.  He is the author.”

Me: “Nobody is going to read it.”

Little Voice: “Tell it anyway.”

That relentless Little Voice has birthed in me a conviction I can no longer ignore. And so, as terrifying as it is for me to put this out there, I need to give this a go. Because for me, it’s always been about so much more than furniture.  My purpose is to encourage you to live with HOPE in the midst of your mess.  Because, let’s be honest, so much of our lives entail inescapable brokenness.  But I am learning to deal with the fear, the heartache, the disappointment, and the pain.  Don’t worry, I’m not selling anything! I don’t have a magic pill, a six step e-course or even an essential oil for you to use to soothe the ache in your soul.

What I can offer you is a deeper understanding of the One who will walk with you through your darkest valleys and will bring you out on the other side, more whole than you were before.  One who sees directly into your soul and says, “I see you. I know your whole story.  I see all of your imperfections and flaws.  You are a broken mess.  And I love you. I’m going to bring you home and make something beautiful of you!  And in those darkest places, where all the scratches and dings are, I’m going to shine most brightly.”

Yep, this beauty was plucked from my neighbor's trash heap!

I do not write from a place of arrival, but as a fellow traveler with stories of my own brokenness, and hopes of how God might use it to teach me, shape me, grow me and give me more compassion for those who are hurting. I would love for you to join me on this journey; to find some encouragement for the pieces of your own heart and to see with new eyes, the hope that can be yours no matter your story.

By the way, I am STILL rehabbing furniture, so if you see me rummaging through your garbage, don’t be surprised!

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. -2 Corinthians 12:9-10