The Old Red Chest

It's summer in the Carolinas!  That means we are having hot, muggy days.  I don't like the heat or humidity but it does mean that I am able to work on the type of projects that I like.

Recently I was thinking about painting an old chest.  Now, this chest was cheap, the sort of chest that would be useful in a college dorm or in one's first apartment.  It was a good size, but I was not sure that it was worth actually painting the chest.  I was talking it over with the Holy Spirit and thought, what I really one is an old, red, beat-up chest with an Americana flair.

Now this thought was not a prayer request, more like an "I wish I had." Yet our Father in heaven likes to grant us some of those little desires when He knows that blessing us in this manner will not corrupt us.  I now have a beat-up red chest of drawers exactly like what I envisioned that I was able to buy locally for a pittance.

This chest had been in someone's garage for over ten years storing tools. Now, twenty or even five years ago I would have probably stripped this chest down to the bare wood, sanded out all the chips, steamed out the dents, and restored the chest so that it looked brand new.  Now, however, I am preserving every dent, scratch, and stain.  I have done minimal sanding [so that I won't get splinters in my hand], done a deep cleaning [goodbye spiders], and then coated the chest with a protective finish.

As I was working on this chest, I was admiring the age and battering and wondered what story this chest could tell and what history each dent, scratch, and mark represented.  Then the Holy Spirit spoke to me

"You admire the scars on this chest.  I admire the scars I see in you.  I know what those scars represent--the pain, the suffering, the rejection. I wept when you went through that pain.  I walked beside you when you were rejected.  But I am proud of you for allowing me to transform your life. I am proud of you for being honest about your failing when you share with others."

Well, I still need to wax my drawers before putting my chest inside my home.  However, I now have more than just a red chest to hold napkins and placemats. I have a visual reminder that God has never forsaken me. He led me out of my pain and darkness and has been transforming me into something beautiful. 

A song I have often sung goes this way:

He give us beauty for ashes,

The oil of joy for mourning

The knowledge of God for the spirit of heaviness

That we might be trees of righteousness

The plantings of the Lord

That He might be glorified.