That pair of boots with miles written all over them that no amount of polish will shine up. That pair of jeans with patches and holes that you wouldn’t throw away for anything because they fit just right. That baseball cap that you’ve worn and shaped and roughed-up to perfection. Maybe to someone else these things look worn-out, but you know they are just broken-in. Finally at the place where it fits your needs. Comfortable, soft, clearly yours.
As I was thinking about how to write about what’s going on with us right now, I almost titled this “worn-out” because in so many ways that’s how I feel. We’ve been on the road every weekend and I’m tired. I can’t make the time I want to for some of those little things, and many of the big ones, I want to do. The house stays a mess, my books stay unread. As I trudge along, I just see myself as worn-out.
But maybe that’s not how God sees me. Maybe I’m just getting broken-in. I’m certainly stretched in many ways, forcing me to surrender my own plans. This past week I’ve felt emotionally run over the washboard a few times. Yet I can see some of the things He has done in me as a wife, trusting my husband and being willing to say “okay” because my husband is leading us. The starch has come out of some of the plans I had begun formulating, even those created after having the previous ones ripped out. I find myself more tightly clinging to the promise that tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, and walking by that faith rather than sight.
Maybe while I look at myself and say “Girl, you are worn-out,” God looks at me and says with a smile, “No way. You are just getting broken-in. You are getting to how I want you to be.” Maybe He wants me with holes and patches, scuffs and tears. After all, those are the marks of use. Maybe to God I can be like a pair of boots, a pair of jeans, a baseball cap, so used and weathered that it calls to you from the closet saying “I’m here and you know I’ll fit. I won’t let you down.” Comfortable, soft, clearly His.
Here am I, Lord.