“If you are irritated by every rub,
how will your mirror be polished?”
So, don’t you just love change?
Who wants to live in predictable comfort
and without potentially unexpected speed bumps in their routine existence?
Or maybe . . .
Are things in your life good enough?
So, let me tell you about growing up in my family. Mom could have been an architect if there’d been money and maybe if girls did such things then. Dad could have been a master builder, and actually was a master at building and fixing everything from a broken baby doll to a broken house, he just didn’t have a fancy piece of parchment to hang up to prove this. He was a country boy and country boys learned and fixed what needed fixing often, in dad’s day and where he lived, this was with only an elementary school education.
So, as our family grew, it was not unusual to have walls knocked down and rooms made larger. Spaces needed to grow more efficient. Things needed to be repurposed. You get the idea. Oh, boy washing dishes as a kid was something I hated especially when a remodel in the kitchen meant dragging the dirty dishes to the bathtub. Change. Yuck.
Funny thing though. After the old crud was knocked down and the dust and splintered new wood was made smooth from the process of change . . . things were sooooo AND I DO MEAN SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO much better. Our tiny house needed to be bigger and our worn out things needed to be broken down to be ultimately fixed and made new.
My life resembles that. I’m in a patch of the Lord knocking down old barriers and walls. It’s been a while and He’s been finding a lot that needed fixing, improving, fertilizing, growing up, feeding, polishing . . . but along the way His light and love have been so present and you know what? The painful process has resulted in so many blessings and so much grace.
He’s not finished with me yet, but I’m pretty excited to be the mirror that reflects His love to those who may not have grown up knowing Him. I was pretty surprised by the process of enabling me and I continue to be rubbed and sanded as my rough edges are many, but all through the process, He’s with me. In between “fixing” we rest and I get to sit at His feet and listen to what He shares with me. Just as I used to sit at my Daddy’s feet and hear his stories and feel his love . . .