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Lesson Learned…Again

Posted by on May 2, 2013

A head cold kept me under the weather and less than sociable this week. It’s difficult to keep my spirit strong when my flesh is weak. I become discouraged about anything and everything. I guess the Lord decided it was time for me to re-learn a lesson from the past.

P1000161While rummaging around in one of the upstairs rooms, I noticed this little chair. The first time I ever laid eyes on it, the chair was stuck in the attic of some friends of my parents. Spider webs had grown out from the curved frame of its backrest and beneath layers of dust, its dingy paint was chipped and peeling.  None of that mattered to my 5-yr-old mind.  It was just my size.

The next time I saw the chair, it was sitting in my bedroom, freshly painted a bright, cheery red.  Long after I outgrew it, that chair remained near the head of my bed holding an alarm clock, a favorite book and other assorted odds and ends. I treasured it, knowing someone else had noted my initial interest and made the effort to fix it up and surprise me.

Twenty-five years after my little chair was rescued from that gloomy attic, I decided to strip its worn paint and get it ready for my young son to use.  That’s when I noticed all its imperfections.  Each leg was fortified with a metal bracket.  The patterned particle board nailed to the seat concealed a rather large hole.  Between that hole and the seat’s front edge, the wood had split.  Another fracture ran front to back about an inch from the seat’s right edge.  Thin pieces of plywood nailed across these splits held it all together like Band-Aids.

Maybe I should just throw it out and buy a new chair. A couple of the brackets were loose, but the legs seemed sturdy.  The cushion needed a few nails replaced.  And the plywood bandages all seemed secure.  No, I decided. It had lasted 25 years in that condition. With luck, it would last a few more.

I remember spreading a new coat of paint over it and thinking of all the holes and fractures and weak joints in my life.  Graciously, God chose not to discard me.  Instead, he sent His Son to clean me up and give me a new coat of blood red paint that covers all my imperfections.

It was a good lesson for me then and and a good lesson to remember now. The Lord doesn’t care what condition we’re in because He makes all things new.

 

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3 Responses to Lesson Learned…Again

  1. Peggy Wirgau

    That’s a prefectly great little shabby chic chair! Thank you for sharing this story, Mary.

  2. Stacey Zink

    Beautiful, Mary.

I welcome your thoughts on this.