I found an old table, constructed from repurposed wood. It is a collection of old porch posts, and boards ripped off of the side of a dilapidated barn. The wood was battered and bruised. The boards were slapped on top of the posts, and the hodgepodge of firewood became something that roughly resembled a table.
Jeff spent long nights pouring all he had into this table. I couldn’t help but stand in the doorway and watch. Jeff was down on his knees, carefully working with the wood. He was wrapping the sandpaper around the grooves of the old posts. He followed the grain of the wood as he delicately, stained and wiped, stained and wiped.
This rough collection of boards was given a new purpose. Jeff was taking something that was broken and dead and was breathing life in to it. The old scraps of wood were being transformed into a table where our family will gather every night for dinner. It will provide a space for us to laugh, share, and create stories. It was becoming a place where six individuals join together, and nourish our bodies as we break bread together.
Every meal around this table, is a reminder of the way God is transforming me. I am like that dumpy old table, broken and seriously lacking in purpose. But God is the ultimate craftsman. God is on his hands and knees sanding down my flaws. Reworking my mistakes. Like the dark walnut stain brought beauty to the blemishes of the table, God is taking my wounds and my deep gashes and turning them into something rich and full of purpose.
May you not dwell on the places you fall short, but revel in the ways God is using those imperfections to bring restoration and new life.