Tarnished

Fidgeting with my necklace again. I really ought to stop. I’d hate to tarnish it. They say the best way to care for your jewelry is to keep it clean, which means to not touch it much I guess. And since this is my special Mother’s Day necklace, I’d hate to ruin it.

Right?

I thought about my wedding dress…It’s my grandmother’s. They celebrated forty years together the year we got married! It’s beautiful and old fashioned. Long sleeves, flowers everywhere, cute little bow in back. Of course, along with the beauty, there came some rips and tears… and it’s really more ivory than white now. We had it repaired and washed for our wedding, and it was almost like new, but not quite. And I liked it that way. It had served a beautiful purpose; now twice. I think that’s pretty cool.

I thought about our home. That sixty-some year old house that still stands on it’s solid foundation. Sure, it’s needed some remodeling and some repairs. Certain parts have sagged over time and there’s a few cracks in the ceiling here and there. We’ve painted, replaced flooring, and added our own decorative touch. But when we moved in it took a lot of work to make it nice again; and, of course, it’s not new.

I like it that way. It’s been lived in and loved and cherished. It’s been well kept and cared for, and it tells a story. It feels like home, and I love to remember how God graciously provided this beautiful place for us to live in, and for us to be a family in.

I think about myself…the marks you can see, and the scars you cant. There’s my dark circles, my greatest physical insecurity. My family assures me there aren’t as bad as I think they are, but I wear make-up often because I was picked on enough to know they are there.

But I’ve learned to live with them. They are part of me, and while I’d like them much better if they weren’t so big, they are the only outward, visible indicator of my health issues. And since my diseases are something God has used to shape parts of my character and my life, I’m okay with my eyes. They bear witness to the scars you can’t see; the ones that are so deep I think only God really knows their exact shape.

But, those scars simply mean that God is working in my life.

Those cracks means that house has been lived in.

Those tears mean the dress was well-worn.

And when I’m old, this necklace might be tarnished. But that’ll be okay; I won’t mind. It’ll simply mean I held it and treasured the meaning behind it.

Life was meant to be lived, not simply time passed. We all know life is hard, I doubt anyone gets out of it unscarred.

But that’s okay.

Even Jesus has scars. One on each hand, and one in His side. And those scars shine a light on the glory of God,

and what God can do with a willing heart,

how God can bring beauty out of pain,

and new life out of death.

And how tarnished doesn’t just mean old; it means loved. And that’s worth the outward marks.

So “Don’t hide your scars. Wear them as proof that God heals.” (Anonymous)

Psalm 34:17-18

“When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. “

Psalm 73:26-28

“My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I  may tell of all your works.”

© Grace Baeten 2020