Timeworn and Tenderness

"For he shall grow up before him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: he hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him." Isaiah 53:2.
This is the post I've been looking forward to for some time now. Since I'm strolling from room to room, I had to wait. And trust me - patience is not a virtue of mine! It's about my favorite piece of furniture. The one that I always say that I would want to salvage if ever given an ultimatum. Its value belongs only to me. I'm sure, as beauty is in the eye of the beholder. That's why I chose the verse in Isaiah to go with this blog. In its original state, this piece really had no form or comliness, as you'll see below, but it had potential. Much like we are. Our outward appearance might leave a bit to be desired, but that's simply what man looks on, God looks on the heart. The inside - the bones - what has sprouted from the root - what has grown from the tender plant - the real deal.
I think it's more the story behind this piece of furniture that makes it so special, as opposed to the actual piece itself. Several years ago, my brother Joey worked for a moving company in Memphis. He was there for many years and accumulated some of the coolest things that others felt were of no use. One such item was a buffet that Joey said had been thrown into the dumpster out back of the office. Apparently some of the guys offered to get rid of it for a customer. So they threw it away. Joey called me and said, "You've got to come over here and see this piece of furniture in the dumpster, I think you'll like it." I lived close, so I jumped in the car, drove over to the office, and pulled around to the back where I found Joey standing on top of the dumpster, pulling and tugging with everything he had. I jumped out of the car and helped him. He was right - it was a beauty - to our eyes none-the-less. Sometimes beauty is in seeing the potential. Very true in this case.
To say that it was heavy is an understatement. We went crazy checking it out for a manufacturer, but there was none to be found. It was handmade with a mahogany wood that had been painted several times over. The inside,however, was untouched. The knobs were original and the drawers were tongue and groove. It was sturdy and fully intact. Joey jumped back into the dumpster and brought out another wooden piece that he thought might go with it. As he turned the piece over, it revealed a beveled mirror ensconced in the same painted wood, with scrolls used to balance it on top of the base. The top cover was the only part missing. Easy remedy. Oh wait! An important part of this story is the fact that there was only one scroll. The other one was missing - it wasn't anywhere to be found in the dumpster.
We loaded the buffet and took it to my house. There was no room for it, but I couldn't let it go. Joey and I put it on the back porch. Although it was somewhat protected by the elements, it was still mistreated. I wouldn't let it go, but there was no room at the inn (so to speak). So there it stayed for more time than I care to admit. Well over a year at least. But it withstood the test of time. From owner, to dumpster, to the outdoors.
When I finally decided it was time to restore it, I began with a fresh coat of paint (yes, white!). It still didn't have a top or the missing scroll piece. So, Joey and I went to the Home Depot and had a piece of wood cut to fit. Perfect - right? Well... not so much. It just so happens that a few weeks later the moving company was cleaning out the warehouse. Guess what Joey found leaned up against the wall behind a myriad of unwanted paraphernalia? Yep - the top. He knew it when he saw it. He called me with the news almost as excited as I was. I finished restoring everything and felt that the missing scroll would be my artistic means of looking a this piece - not as imperfect, but as redeemed.
Still not the end of the story... A year or so later, while sitting through a University of Memphis graduation with other staff and faculty members, I noticed that Charlie Mazzone (a dear friend and fellow instructor) was reading a magazine about woodwork. I'm sure you guessed by now. I bribed Charlie into making the scroll in return for not snitching on him for reading magazines during graduation ceremonies! I removed the one scroll that was still attached and took it to Charlie. He made a new one that is an exact replica. Not only do I still love my Charlie Mazzone, I love the scroll that he replaced on my otherwise irreplaceable buffet. Charlie is as much a treasure as this piece of furniture.
To say that this piece is timeworn is certainly true. It had no form or comliness. But with just the right amount of tenderness it became the perfect example of a tender plant. With a sown seed, a bit of water, and some minor cultivating, small plants become large trees. What have you done this week to either plant a seed, add a drop or two of water, or helped to cultivate someone? How much time have you spent lavishing yourself when you could have been loving the Lord more lavishly by tending His sheep?