It is sad. This chair I am sitting in. It has some pretty ugly scars. It is still incredibly comfortable. I can prop my feet up on the ottoman or pull my legs up in the chair with me. It is even big enough for me to lay on my side and catch a short nap.
At one time the fabric was my favorite. I still enjoy the colors. I still enjoy having this chair. But it is unsightly now. I am not really sure if the quality of the fabric was not durable enough for the beatings we have given it or if our beatings have just been too hard. Either way, there are some holes.
Those holes started as a fading of the color. Then one thread snapped and gave way to a small hole. Then that small hole was picked at and sat on and wiggled in and became a bigger hole. A rip in the fabric. An irreparable gash in the covering of this chair. This hole cannot be sewn back together.
The only thing that will fix this chair is to remove the old covering and replace it. Some might even say the whole chair needs to go. Just depends on the perspective of the beholder. Depends on the relationship of the sitter to the chair.
Isn’t this old chair a little like me? Thread bare in places and gashed wounds bleeding stuffing in other places. Cuts run deep enough that there needs to be an overhaul in the fabric. But just how much am I willing to pay to refinish this old chair? Is it worth it to me to refinish it or do I need a fresh start?
I think we all find ourselves in places in life where we have to look around and see what needs to be refinished. Evaluate ourselves from different angles and determine what needs happen moving forward. Looking back will only help so much. It may keep me from making the same mistakes again. But I don’t want to return to something of low quality that will leave me desiring better.
The good thing about this old chair is that it reminds me this world is temporary. No matter what I purchase, it will not last forever. No amount of money can purchase a man-made object that will last forever.
So, in my quest for long-lasting durability, I shift my eyes up. Realizing I may have to raise the bar a little more in order to know excellence. I won’t settle for mediocrity. I won’t compromise on quality.
And if you think I am just talking about furniture, you are wrong.
Because the fabric of my life is not just this ragged chair. The fabric of my life is the love of my Savior. The essence of His Spirit moving and shaking and holding me. The people He brings into my life that gives me different perspectives. He helps me see beyond myself. He provides me a good comfortable seat in this theater of life.
Sometimes the seat can get a little hard to sit in. But it isn’t because He has changed. It isn’t because He has left me. It might just be because I took my eyes off Him. Some obstacle may have grabbed my attention and caused me to have temporary blindness.
So, I am asking Him to return my vision. To clean the wounds of my gashes and forgive my wandering heart. To bind up that which is torn. To make quality repairs that will last for eternity.
