I’ve written about this table before, twice. Here. And here. You just about need to read these, to prime the pump, so the rest will make tons more sense to you.
Otherwise, you’ll think I’m some kind of doddering old nut.
So, go ahead and read. This’ll still all be here when you get back. And I’ve arranged the links to open in new windows, so you won’t lose this page. You’re welcome.
Now, if you’ve read, or if you remember the story,
Let me tell you Chapter Three
Those of you who have hung with me for years may think you are tired of hearing about “the table”, but the story simply has gotten WAY better.
Basically, there is a table in my life that has not much monetary value, but lotsa nostalgia going for it. I’m not immune to nostalgia at all, but this thing rang all my bells and has humbled me to no end.
If it is possible to be in love with a table, then I was.
First, it is important to realize when I thought the table was destroyed, it was because it was old and I could not remember having it for years and years. Then, one day I wrote about it and later I discovered my son had it at his house. Wow. You cannot imagine my happiness.
When we were helping them move, it was so close to totally rotten we debated photographing it and giving it a funeral.
I voted a big “NO” and I won. Eventually the table came back to be mine, but finally in pieces. It lived, along with all its pieces, in our shop, for several years.
Well the other day, my newly-retired husband asked me if I wanted to see what he’d been doing all day, and you guessed it:
The table has been resurrected:
You can imagine my pleasure (but only if you’ve read the previous stories!) and the poor, simple table has brought tears to my eyes, one more time, and here it is, the way I saw it when I first learned it had survived surgery.
I know it doesn’t look like much, but it was a sight to behold, for me.
Now, here it is, newly repainted and pressed into service, again, making everything around it look in need of a Spring spruce-up.
Isn’t it like that with us? Our Father created us, and loves when our parents dedicate us to Him, and when we love him back and serve Him. But sometimes we get worn out, or worse yet, we get away from Him. Then He finds us and fixes us.
So this love gift has been given to me thrice. What a thing to make such a deal about, but really, it’s the love that has overwhelmed me.
Some days the blessings just come. Ever had a day like that?
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