It’s uncomfortable to sit in. You barely can relax before it tips and you feel like it will dump you backwards.
But I like how it makes me feel.
I got it at a discount store, and it was white. Eventually the hot sun cracked the paint. It slivered off like small pieces of icicle coating my patio.
I bought deep red paint for it. I like red. It’s bold, energizing.
I need more energy. Red is good.
My parents came to visit. Dad painted it for me and left it out in the grass to dry.
The next morning. . .
“Are those sprinklers?” Dad asked.
Long pause. . .
“The chair!” he yells and runs out to the grass.
Streaked paint. The red paint was now called “primer.”
One day I am listening to one of my favorite songs, Old Blue Chair by Kenny Chesney.
There’s a blue rocking chair,
Sittin’ in the sand.
Weathered by the storms and well oiled hands.
It sways back and forth with the help of the winds,
Seems to always be there, like an old trusted friend.
I look out my kitchen window to my red-streaked chair. It needs to be blue.
Bright Mediterranean blue. Cool blue. Relaxing. Chilled out. Comforting.
I bought the spray paint and each day painted until my hand could barely unbend.
“On that great day,” God says, ‘I will round up all the hurt and homeless, everyone I have bruised or banished. I will transform the battered . . .'” (Micah 4:6)
At last, the chair was transformed.
Just as God transforms us. We crack, we peel, we get hit with sprinklers that feel like storms. We are bruised, we are battered, but God gives us a new coat of paint.
How is God transforming me?
Now my blue rocking chair is a reminder to sit on the patio and just relax. Be carefree. Go barefoot. It’s always there, like a trusted old friend.
Am I being transformed from a woman who lives in a world of bold red, to one who seeks the soothing of aqua blue? Do I need to continue to prove anything? Can I just be?
Not everything in our life must have a purpose other than bringing us pleasure.
Not everything I do or think must make a statement. I can live in the chilled out world of blue.
And anything can be transformed. . . even me. . .
. . . with a bit of love.
Lisa Copen is the founder of Rest Ministries and she lives in San Diego with her husband and son. She is gradually learning how to balance motherhood, family, illness, and ministry, but she still knows it will be a lifetime lesson. You can see the books she has written, including, Why Can’t I Make People Understand? at the Rest Ministries shop.