Recently home for a few days, I woke up early and wandered around the house. Memories of the past peaked out from every corner. It is special to return home-to your childhood spaces. There is the one heater vent tucked behind the couch that my brother and I would rush to warm ourselves by in the morning-him always beating me out. The little spiders I engraved on the wall while talking on the phone for hours. The closet that I knew was the perfect hiding place. The creepy room, I still don’t like to go in. Then there are the key holes that are big enough to watch mom wrap our gifts through.
I never did that again.
Memories find me as I walk into my teenage bedroom. I am amazed that it still had a familiar sweet fragrance that sends me back 25 years-how is that possible? Don’t you love how some scents do that?
As I wandered around, my gaze landed on a pair of pretty Chinese figurines. They have been a familiar site since I was maybe ten? They have intricate hands and pretty kimonos, and a flat porcelain feel that when touched -you know they are delicate. They almost seem out of place in my parents vintage home with decor that is certainly not Asian. Nevertheless, they have sat in our home for years. Mom tells the story, that she saw them in Shopko and knew immediately that she wanted them. Not having any spare money in those days for such luxuries and pretty knick knacks she didn’t get them right away. Immediately plans were put into motion to start saving for the adored figurines. When they arrived, it was very clear they were special. My brother and I were given clear instructions-break them and you die. We knew Mom didn’t have a lot of precious things in those days-so we believed her. Horsing around? We made sure we were far away from the Asian ladies. Thirty years later-they still grace my childhood home.
Things of beauty have always been my mother’s Achilles heel. Always drawn by graceful lines, sparkles or a pretty sheen of color (especially if pink)…her home is full of beautiful things. Each nook and cranny carries a special piece that adorns the space with magic. Something pretty, that when asked carries a story. It belonged to so and so, or the piece spoke to her just right. If given the chance my mother’s home would be a snoopers heaven, as drawers are filled with pretty wrapped collections of barbies, lovely vintage shoes and purses and many other sweetly encased treasures.
She is drawn to beauty and the story. My mother has spent much time hunting for items that provide a physical bridge to a sweet memory. She longs to restore that which has been broken by time, separation and loss. She sees the inherent value in pieces many of us would have long put away, thrown away or maybe not even have purchased. Ask me sometime about a circa 1950’s naked baby door stop…..
Each piece is a reflection of my mother’s heart. It’s a precious place to walk through.
On closer inspection of the Chinese lady figurines , a hand and neck have been broken but carefully glued back together.
It was not me or my brother. Thank goodness!!
None the less these damaged pieces still carry a special place in my mother’s home. They are no less pretty because they carry a blemish. It only enhances their story. Despite the eclectic nature of mom’s pretties each is esteemed and loved.
We often think we have no place in God’s family. We too have been broken, a little eclectic ourselves but Christ sees the beauty in us. Jesus sees you as a rare jewel from a crown. Zechariah 9:16. He would not abandon anything so valuable and He longs to restore our broken story. His plan involved sending his Son to redeem us.
But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. Matthew 6:20
As another year turns, let’s be wise and store up for ourselves treasures of heaven. Let’s invite Christ to set up residence in our hearts. He, like my sweet Mama, will fill up every nook and cranny with something that sparkles, glimmers and reflects His heart. Any other way-is halfbaked!