Recently I discovered hardwood floors under my less than beautiful carpet. What a prize! I couldn’t wait to start the project of making them beautiful again. I started by ripping up all the carpet and then moving half of my house into the other half of my house – not a fun way to live! The process really began to take shape after I sanded for hours with a machine that weighed as much as my car. (A seat and a steering wheel would have made the process a lot more enjoyable!) After the sanding step, the biggest transformation took place as I applied the stain. The color went from a light, raw wood to a rich, dark walnut. I was tempted to stop there, but I trudged on. After crawling through three rooms on my hands and knees nine times, the final coat was finally left to dry. The result? Floors that look like a million bucks!
As I crept across the floor, I noticed all the little imperfections; scratches, dents, and dings from who knows what. They remain because I could not bring myself to sand them out. After all, if these marks could talk, they would tell me the story of my little house on the hill. Thinking of all this drew my mind to my own history. The story of my life is really not all that different than the story of my restored floors.
When I was born my parents thought I was perfect, yet the seed of sin was planted deep within me. As I grew and journeyed through life, I was tempted by sin. This left marks of regret, shame, and guilt deep inside my heart. The story of my life has not always been easy, sometimes it was not much fun, and other times it downright hurt. I recall feeling very insignificant in God’s big world and was left wondering what the purpose of my life would be. One day when I was completely broken and on my knees, the story took a turn and suddenly flaws of the past began to tell the story of my restoration in Christ.
In Isaiah 61, it speaks of God’s plan to deliver and restore His people with His Son, Jesus. Verse 3 tells us Jesus would “…provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”
As I glance back at the different chapters of my life, the pages in this story have turned from sadness to happiness, sorrow to joy. With each scuff I know my Savior has healed, taught, and comforted me while I walked through the valley. I see where he carried me, lifted me up, and met me on the mountain top. Each little mark has turned into the beautiful character God wants me to be. These bumps and dings are not meant to be forgotten or covered up, rather shared as a testimony of God’s love, faithfulness, and deliverance.
What’s your story?
Becky Ossefoort