Repurposed junk. Repurposed Life.

                                                         

 I found these treasures buried in a shed at my husband's grandparent's farm.  They are among my favorite things. Yeah, really. :) Strange perhaps, but true. Once finding their home in a dirty shed or outside facing the elements of extreme Minnesota seasons, these things now grace the walls of my home and manage to put a smile on my face. Here's the story...

It had been a couple of decades since they sold that beloved family farm.  Age had stolen their resolve to stay. Moving into town was inevitable. With no family having desire to take over the plow, they had no choice but to- let it go. Sold on one sunny, summer day at an auction. It was gone. Life as the family knew it was over the second that auctioneer boldly declared, "SOLD!"

 But memories still abound on those acres. No one can take those. They belong to the family forever. After we buried Grandma that morning, it was as though the farm was compelling us to make the dusty drive just one more time... together. With family  spread across the country and both grandparents gone-we knew, though no one spoke it, this would be the last time.

We walked the barren land that once produced abundant crops, birthed brilliant flower beds and cushioned little feet at play. We cautiously stepped into dilapidated barns that once kept cows and plows, we leaned hard on the weathered wooden fence that once penned in horses but was now empty and eerily still.  We laid eyes long on that old white farm house that was... home... and everything representing Grandma. It's now falling apart, un-kept, lonely.

The trail to the lake was gone. Trees had grown-but so had we-at least I think, but this day makes me wonder. This farm that once was alive with family, grand-kids, crops, gardens, chores, clothes drying on the line, milking cows, horses and the family dog was now completely dead. Lifeless. Purposeless. Sad.

The emotion ran deep. The now adult grandchildren acted like little kids that afternoon..."Look! Do you remember this?! We used to..." I could  see my husband as a young boy playing right there at  his grandparents farm as they shared stories.

 While the family was bursting with minds on memories and days of old,  I was hunting, for treasures, for lost things. Tin pails half buried in earth next to the water pump. An old metal mail box next to the barn-tangled in weeds. Chicken coop fencing still rolled up in a dark corner of the tired barn. I could've hauled a trailer home with the all the tossed aside, forgotten things I found. Too timid to ask myself, my husband humbly asked the owner if we could take these few pieces of 'junk' home. He didn't care. He graciously said "take it-please". I know he thought I was crazy. He didn't understand. I didn't need him to. The new owner? He and his wife have no kids. No farmer instincts in his bones. He just wanted space. He wanted quiet. So he bought the farm and let it die.

The warped barn wood, dented metal mail box with the family name etched on it, the chicken wire, old screen window...those things don't feel, they don't have a soul, they didn't need rescuing, but we do. And this stuff is a symbol to me...of life made new, the old given meaning, life rescued, restored. This tossed aside, long forgotten, beaten up...junk...is a treasure in my home.  It has purpose... again.

Maybe I like this stuff because I think it's how we as humans feel from time to time...like old news, has- beens, forgotten, neglected, struggling with purpose and fulfillment. But sweet sister, nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing. We all struggle with letting things go... you know, that season when we felt like somebody, that job we loved, that position where we felt needed, the role we had as a mom, that relationship we didn't think would ever change-but did. Letting go of that which identifies us, fulfills us, attempts to complete us...is difficult...so we wrestle for a bit, and sadly, sometimes end up- giving up. We neglect ourselves. We decide it's over-maybe we're over.

If you are in that season, God wants to rescue you if you'd allow him. Resist the urge to let yourself die. Fight hard for life-abundant. For truth-experienced. Maybe you're tired, just want some space...have nothing left within the marrow of your bones to work the soil of your soul.  Know this-You are never lost. You are never forgotten. God will uncover you...if you will let him. Cooperate. Please.

He is faithful to tenderly wipe off the dirt built up from years of neglect, from the years of extremely harsh seasons we may have been in. He will make us new. We can bloom again. We can find a place to belong. Oh, life may look different than it did in years past.  That's okay and I promise, you will be okay. God will redefine you in a glorious, beautiful way that will bring joy and smiles to those in your presence. Just let God have his new way in you. Sweet, beloved daughter of The Creator, dare to Live Again...

 ...In Christ, she is a new creation, the old has gone, the new has come! 2 Cor 5:17

Blessings,

Amy Joy

P.S. Thanks for the facebook messages. I have enjoyed those! Some of you have told me that you are unable to leave a comment here on the blog. I am not techy but will try to figure it out. I said TRY. :)