“Let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think and act." ~ Romans 12:2
At 37 years old, Sophia was still “daddy’s little girl”, even
though she’d lost him to a massive heart attack months before. She hadn’t entered
the world through his body, but the mother of three had arrived through his
heart. The bond they shared was unlike any other.
Her Dad, Hernando was
a happy, kind man. At dinnertime, their family would gather around the battered
kitchen table each evening, no exceptions! Before grace, Dad would look at each
sibling and ask: “I wonder what the poor people are doing.” Despite their
abject poverty, he wanted them to know that they were rich because they had
each other (and another wonderful meal).
As Sophia carefully
arranged each place setting, she paused for a second and felt the smoothness of
the antique wood. A faint smile crept across her face as she remembered the
table’s history.
If it could talk, it
would speak of their everyday lives, celebrations, and conversations. Around
this table, family members had experienced joy and heartache, love and tears,
victories and defeats.
For Hernando, it had
been a kind of a workbench. He’d studied the bible on its surface and fixed
various household items there. Dad sat at the table for hours worrying about
which bills to pay first. It’s where decisions were made, and punishments
metered out.
For the kids, it’d always been a reliable place to do
homework or work their childhood magic in a coloring book. They played
countless hands of Rummy and epic games of Monopoly on it.
Sadly, the kitchen table had aged with them, becoming more of a pointless souvenir with age. After Dad had passed on, the table made from barn wood, complete with nail holes and splinters, was now unsuitable for family gatherings.
Until Sophia’s husband, Miguel, rescued it from the junk
pile, hauled it into the garage, and started sanding it.
Their youngest daughter, Isabella watched intently as he abrasively
rubbed course paper against the wood’s grains. “You’re hurting the table!” she
protested, but Miguel just smiled. He knew what she didn’t – that the sandpaper
was exactly what that table needed.
He’d been wise and thoughtful.
After meticulous sanding and finishing, it was lovingly
placed in their kitchen. Tonight, Sophia placed a “Thank You” note on Miguel’s
plate. The table would serve as a steady companion to the aroma of freshly
baked bread and the happiness of family ties.
Sophia snapped back to the present, thinking about the
things in her life that felt uncomfortable, like sandpaper. Maybe she should
really be thankful for the situations and people that rubbed her wrong. Were
they meant to somehow transform her like the sandpaper had this table?
Jesus, if only we could be like You and show
our “sandpaper” kindness and love. Smooth those edges that make us bitter,
impatient, and unkind. They reveal the refinements that we may need to work on,
to soften us, mold us, and change us. Amen
