As we drove by the antique store, I saw it sitting outside. An aqua blue, wrought iron chairs and glass top table. The chairs had little flower cushions in them. It was different for sure. I thought it was really cute. It wasn't "cabiny" at all. I didn't really want that rustic look this time. I thought it would add an interesting touch to our back porch. I didn't say anything the first time I saw it. I'm a thinker. A planner. So, I have to get things right in my mind before I tell my husband about it. I want to think that God has taught me this little piece of patience. We passed by it several more times and finally I told hubby that I liked it. If I tell him I like something he will try his darn level best to get it. So, I better be sure. We didn't go immediately, but a week or so later we stopped by to check on it. It was still there. As I got out of the car, I immediately went over to get a closer look. I ran my hands across the table. As I did, I saw some discoloring on one side of the table. You know that foggy look that glass gets when it is old. I put some spit on my finger and ran it across the glass to see if it was just dirty. I did it again going over the top and underneath. No it wasn't just dirty, it was discolored. As I walked into the store I told the man that I was interested in the table and chairs but that there was a problem with the glass. "Yes," he said. "I tried to clean that off when I first got it." "Make me an offer," he continued. We looked around the store. As we left, he walked out to the table and chairs, pondering for a few minutes, he came off the asking price. He even told us he could deliver it. That was the real deal maker because we didn't have a way of getting it home. A few days later he arrived with our painted blue wrought iron cutie. A chair at a time and then the big glass top table; we put it into place on the porch. I had a candle all ready to place in the middle of the table. Perfect! I loved it! It certainly added the little bit of charm I was looking for. The candle was quickly removed though, because my husband, the perfectionist that he is, had already gone to the hardware store to purchase ceramic, glass cleaner. Sure enough, he started pretty quickly trying to get the glass clean. He even bought razor blades to scrape it. He was certain that he could get it clean. He scrubbed and scraped. Remember that sound kids make when they scratch their fingernails down a chalkboard? Well maybe your too young. Oh well, anyway, it will make your skin crawl. After almost an hour he said, "It looks like I'm not going to be able to get it off." "It's okay," I assured him. "It doesn't have to be perfect," I re-assured him (and me.) "It's okay if it is flawed," I said. "Everything and everyone has flaws." "Yes, we do," he agreed. He continued to wipe a little. I could tell it was hard for him to give up on it. We're really different, my husband and I, yet alike too. We both think outside of the box, just usually at opposite ends of it. I had already planned in my mind the color of place mats to use on the table. "We'll just cover that spot up," I thought. He told me again that he was sorry that he wasn't able to get it clean. He had bought it for me and couldn't stand that it wasn't just right. I love that about him. As I sat on the porch and watched him clean, I started thinking about imperfections in my own life. I thought about how about twenty-one years ago my husband at the time and I took our seven year old daughter to a large hospital out of town to have laser surgery done to remove the port wine stain on her cheek. I found out about the surgery and since it was considered a birth defect, insurance would cover it. We took her several times and it was quite painful for her. She said that it felt like grease popping on her face. The surgeon said that the next time that we did it, we needed to put her asleep because of the pain. I didn't want to do that. But, we left it up to her. It was her choice. I will never forget her saying. "I don't want to do it anymore." "Just leave it like it is. It's a part of me." Wow! Straight from the mouth of babes. I had never looked at it like that. I had in my mind that it wasn't suppose to be there. We needed to have it removed. Thank you daughter for teaching me a valuable lesson that day. Recently, my friends and I got together at the beach. We try to do that at least once a year. I wanted to make something special for them. They are life-long friends. Those kind of friends that you literally only have "once in a lifetime." We have a lot of things in common but one thing we have in common is we have been through a lot of "trying experiences," that left a few scars. The most amazing thing though is that each one is a beautiful reminder of God's faithfulness to us. These are not just ordinary women to me they are virtuous women. Women that I love very much. I painted the scripture out of Proverbs 31 on a canvas, "She is worth far more than rubies." One for each one of them. After I finished one, I noticed that I had filled in all of the "f" rather than kept the loop open. It didn't look bad. It just looked different than the other two. I decided to let them just pick a gift bag rather than me giving it to them. In that way, I left it up to God. Well, sure enough the friend that I felt in my heart I wanted to give it to, picked it. She texted me days later and told me, "I just love it." I told her the story how I wanted her to have it, but left it up to Him. She understood perfectly. I knew she would ♡ There is something so special about being broken open and then allowing Jesus to piece you back together again. Every scar, every flaw, every wrinkle, every limp, every little bitty piece of imperfection, is there for a reason. I love that even our own mistakes will serve a purpose in His kingdom; nothing ever wasted. Each one are lessons learned and character made stronger. It is a reminder of His love for us; every single day. He doesn't make mistakes. So, how could I ever view an imperfection as anything other than absolutely beautiful? You know the old saying, you can't judge a book by its cover? Well...you can't judge a table by its glass either 💕
sammie jean
