Crates

The man said they were cherry crates and I believed him.  Stamped on dozens of boards was the name of the farm where they had once been well used.  I wondered how many millions of cherries had been carried in boxes that now lay as boards.

We snatched them up.  Sold in bundles we had a treasure trove of wood to paint and upcycle.  We were in the crafting mood preparing for a fund raiser of hand made and well loved.

Neither of us are painters, but with a glue gun in hand, we went to work.  We have laughed till we cried reviewing each other triumphs and failures.

I have always wanted to paint.  I have always wanted to sing.  The fact remains I stink at both.

There is something profoundly satisfying in taking something out of the garage or basement, something hidden in a corner and seeing it become something more than it was.  Sometimes beautiful.

Isn’t this the very business Jesus is in?

I have never felt particularly great at anything.  I have seen great.  I live with great.  My husband is crazy talented.  And I have a tribe of talented children.

 I sit on the side of this pool and watch them.  It’s glorious.

I look at them and know the depth with which God has filled them;  He has also given to me.  I just have to figure out where and how.  The journey is in finding the joy.  The places He has equipped us.  He says in Hebrews, “He equips us for doing His will…”

As long as I have known Jesus, I have never known Him to be stingy.  By all accounts when He fills and gives and pours, He does it with a wide overflowing pitcher into the cup of grace.

We are equipped.

We are the strong wood with which He builds.  We are the ones that carry the message.  We are the reflectors of the brilliant message of salvation.

I am convinced for the thousand times I have gotten this wrong, the one more terrible thing I could is to not try.  To stay in the shadow with dust collecting on my heart.

I may not shout it, but I am going to do my level best to live it.

This joy, this joy that comes from knowing Jesus.  I want it to bubble up and over when times are blissfully good and when every ounce of me wants to quit.

He remakes, He refines, He redeems.  Taking the ugly and forging beautiful.