Thirty-Something Soccer Mom

I spotted the chairs from across the store and made a beeline straight for the furniture section.  For months I’d been searching in vain for a dining set to use on our covered porch.

Finding six matching chairs in any condition was rare but finding them in good condition was almost unheard of.  Even from this distance they looked very promising.

As I walked closer my anxiety grew. Several other customers were hovering right next to them.  A middle-aged woman ran her hand across the table and pulled out one of the chairs.   I wanted to run over there, throw myself down on top of the table (spread-eagle style) and yell, “Dibs!”  But I was still 20 feet away.

My heart was pounding the closer I got. 

I forced myself to walk with slow, controlled steps so as not to alert anyone else to the treasure right under their noses.

Finally, I was there. I couldn’t believe my luck!  Six matching chairs and they were solid wood.  I later found a manufacturers tag on the underside of the seat “Made in San Francisco 1921.”

I ran my hand over the carved backs. The middle-aged woman was still looking at them.  After a moment she pushed the chair back into the table and began to walk away.  “Yes!”  I thought.  Trying not to sound frantic I called out to the sales clerk nearby: “Can I get a hold slip for these?”

The woman swung back around and looked down at me through her red bifocals.

“Those are really nice,” she said, walking closer.

“Good and sturdy…” came a comment from another passerby.

I smiled and nodded as I waved at the sales clerk again.

“Over here, I said…I’ll take all six.”

They were listed for $12 each but I talked him down to $8.  I knew it was risky but I was banking on the fact that in their current state (covered in black paint with dirty zebra-print seats) they didn’t look like much.  But I knew they were a fabulous find. Excitedly, I envisioned what they’d look like with a fresh coat of paint and a reupholstered seat.  I knew they’d be a Pinterest dream.

On the way home I called my husband and told him what I’d bought.

“They’re gorgeous…” I said.

“Great!” He answered sarcastically.

When I pulled up to the house he and the kids came out to help me unload.

“Mom!”  My kids chimed in unison…”These are ugly!”

“Wow…” my husband said. “Not what I was expecting.”

“They’ll be great,” I reassured him.  “Just wait until I work my magic.”

I was so excited that their doubt didn’t even phase me.

I set all the chairs out in the yard and took a picture knowing the before and after would be dramatic.

And so began the process of transformation. 

For weeks I sanded, scraped, puttied, and primed.   It took much longer than I’d anticipated but finally the chairs were ready to be painted. I pried the lid off the can and dipped my brush into the thick creamy paint.

With great pleasure I drug the sponge tip across the smooth surface of the chair.  With each brushstroke I was filled with immense satisfaction as the creamy color covered the once black surface.  I was almost giddy with delight.

It was during this moment I remembered something my sister had told me years ago after seeing my completion of a similar project.

“You have a gift.” she said. 

“You see beauty and value in what others find worthless and a waste of time.  You can see its potential.”

Vision is what she called it.

As I continued painting I reflected on her words and let them sink in as I brimmed with pride at completing yet another project that showcased my “vision.”  As I reveled in my gift these startling words entered my mind…

”You need to be this way with people too.”

Like a whisper the words settled on my heart.   I considered them, humbled by their truth and clarity.   I reflected on them with each stroke of my brush as my mind pondered their meaning and purpose.  In that reflection I came to an understanding of the worth of a soul in the eyes of God and the potential He sees in each of us.

Sometimes we may look at ourselves (and others) and see little worth.  We may think: ”Wow, what a piece of junk.”

But God sees our lives with vision and purpose.  He sees the divine potential in each of us and aches to work “His magic” in our lives.

He doesn’t mind the months and years of sanding, scraping, puttying, priming and painting required at His hands.  He understands that underneath the layers of black paint there is a tag that says “Child of God.”  The soils and stains upon us can be removed, the holes filled and the scratches and rough edges can be sanded and smoothed away.

****

Every time I look at my table and chairs I’m reminded of the lesson I learned that day.   When I’m tempted to be impatient, frustrated or lose hope in myself or others I remember the vision that God has for each of us.  Developing this vision for myself and others is a gift I’m striving to develop and it’s a gift with far greater power than seeing the potential in a Thrift Store find.