The bench

Recently I found myself looking at an old battered and bruised bench. It is not an ordinary bench by any means, this bench can move. It has waged through storms of great magnitude, been thrown over more than a few times and even been broken in a few pieces. Paint chips often can be found scattered around its surface and yet the amazing thing is, it still glides beautifully.

This bench was a wedding gift to my husband and I eleven years ago at our wedding shower. It has traveled with us from one home to another and now sits proudly on our front porch. The very place I always pictured it. Interesting thing is when I first sat in it all those years ago, opening lovely wrapped gifts. I had no idea what God really had in store for me. Even now I am often left pondering. 

Anyone who has torched through this life knows what I am talking about. Life is so often not about the pretty things. The fancy wrapped things are usually not the ones we see Him in. Oh no my friend, it is in the broken and bruised parts of our life that we witness our great God doing His majestic work.

There have been times I have sat on that bench back when it was pretty and painted and thought about nothing in particular. Then there have been the times I have sat and rocked and rocked, attempting to rock the pain away. The winds would again pick up and the storms would come and blow us over yet again. Rain would pound on us and even chip away at our pretty exterior, the one we worked so hard to keep together. We would eventually even break under the pressure.

Then something brilliant happened. In my brokenness, something amazing occurred. I walked past my bruised and beaten old bench and I witnessed how strong it really is. I feel its ability to still rock with the wind and withstand the worldly beatings. I no longer am focused on the exterior, I am witnessing the inner most part at work, the One that keeps it moving. I see me. I see the one God takes notice of when He looks down on His precious creation. I feel His Hand upon me.

Yes I may be worn, I may be battered. At times I may break under His pressure, even be blown over by the very winds of life God has allowed me to walk through. But in this moment, this sweet and precious moment I am reminded of the truth. The Heavenly Truth. It is during these seasons of my life, these not so pretty parts that I most experience my Heavenly Papa coming to be with me. Leaving His throne to scoop me up and put me back on His firm foundation. He is the Potter that not only puts me back together. He is the Potter that holds me together.

Not my way Lord, but the beautiful way You always imagined and intended for me."O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand" (Isaiah 64:8). "Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." (Psalm 139:16).

A life long prayer...
Take my life and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in endless praise.
Take my hands and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.
Take my voice and let me sing,
Always, only for my King.
Take my lips and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.
Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect and use
Every pow’r as Thou shalt choose.
Take my will and make it Thine,
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own,
It shall be Thy royal throne.
Take my love, my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store.
Take myself and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.

In Jesus' Name I pray, amen.