June 10, 2020 He sees beauty in something that’s broken down and less than what it could be. That fact struck me as my husband, Adam, walked around one of our two porches – the porch decorated in a nautical theme (complete with a functioning porthole window) – and inspected the pieces of driftwood he’s collected over the years. On a table, there’s a gnarled, twisted piece of driftwood that likely started out as a tree branch. There’s a piece of driftwood on one wall that resembles the shape of a shark, and there’s a piece on another wall that started out as a board, possibly part of a dock. That piece still has a rope attached (it’s Adam’s favorite). That’s before we think about all the small pieces of driftwood Adam has affixed to the porch door frame, completely covering it. By its nature, driftwood is the result of wearing away something that was once whole. After being in the water, a branch or board is worn down leaving the remaining wood discolored and misshapen. I think many people – myself included before I married Adam – would view driftwood as refuse, just another item that washes up from area rivers and lakes. But Adam loves his driftwood. He finds each piece unique and beautiful. At first, I found Adam’s enjoyment of driftwood to be a bit odd. I guess I assumed others likely viewed driftwood the way I do, as refuse. Watching my husband lovingly inspect his waterfront finds this weekend, it made me think about the fact that I sometimes project my thinking on others, including God. This is especially true when I’m thinking about my brokenness and failings, the parts of my life where I’m less than what I’m called to be. I project those feelings onto God, and assume He also focuses on my brokenness, failings and shortcomings. I forget He loves me unconditionally. My ways are not Adam’s ways, and they’re certainly not always God’s ways. And I’m blessed that they both can see beauty in something that’s less than what it could be. |
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