You have undoubtedly heard one or both of these terms recently. Whatever a person’s reason, it is fashionable to turn one’s trash into a treasure. Several years ago I happened upon a table at an estate sale. The table was painted a bright fire engine red. I purchased the item for a few dollars. I excitedly phoned my husband who was out of town to tell him about my score. He was not as optimistic as I when told the color. By the time he arrived home, I had removed the layers of paint, re-stained and sealed it.
Absent the marks apparently left by children, the table looked brand new. I was asked why I did not sand out those scars. To me, the history of the family that formerly surrounded the table just added to the value of this piece. Those scars are barely visible but when I run my fingers over them, I am reminded of the times our family gathered around our table for Daddy’s stew and Mother’s yeast rolls. I imagine the previous family too has their own memories.
A few weeks back I was shopping for a side table for our front porch. It is crazy how expensive and flimsy much outdoor furniture is. I popped in the thrift store several times looking for a piece that could be re-purposed. Again, I found a table beaten and worn. The size and bulk was perfect. After a bit of cleaning, sanding and painting, it is a perfect fit.
I complain to my adult children that they don’t call often enough. They remind me everyone lives a hectic life. I realized my life is no where near the rat race they are in, but yet I have failed to stay in contact with dear friends.
There is one particular friend I have thought of many times but had lost contact with. I began searching the internet for her. After several weeks I finally got a hit with her name and address. There was no phone number listed. I sent a post card not sure if it would reach the intended recipient.
I finally connected with my friend LaDonna last night. We talked for a long while on the phone. I was saddened to hear she had lost one of her precious sons. I was further grieved for my failure of a friend in not being there to over her comfort.
My friend has always been a bright, funny and kind woman. She is a gifted entrepreneur. One of her recent endeavors is reclaiming and repurposing items for sale. She says she is into her Shabby Chic phase. No doubt she will do well.
Neither LaDonna nor I are the same people we were when we became friends years ago. Even through the pain of loss, she is still allowing God to reclaim and repurpose her life. I am so happy and proud to call her friend. We have repurposed and reclaimed our friendship. I will make every effort not to ever neglect or take it for granted again.
How thankful I am that God sees the value in each of us. Even though we may be coated with dirt and stains of this world He constantly searches for us just as we are. Every morning He offers new mercies. He too leaves some scars in our lives. Those are to remind us that He has healed us and set us free. Even when we fall short, He is always there. We, His children, are forever His precious treasure. His kind of Chic is in no way Shabby!
And He that sat upon the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” (Rev. 21:5)