Our family recently moved. Moving is exhausting, yet the promise of a fresh start is a great motivator. Every bit of the process is a pain, and I would much rather stay where I am without having to sift through the accumulated junk in my life.
Now that I am in my new home, I am still sifting through the junk. Stuff was thrown into boxes because I didn’t want to take the time to sort it all out. I find myself in desperate need to sift through the emotional junk too. There are years of feelings stuffed down because reaching in and sorting through it all is not an enjoyable place to be. I don’t want to deal with it.
Our last home was much newer than this one. Don’t get me wrong there are pros and cons to living in a newer space as with an older home. Everything was updated, with pristine hardwood flooring, cabinets, and fixtures. But a newer home is often built at such a rapid pace that many aspects were overlooked. Windows from floor to ceiling leaked causing peeling paint and mold. Load-bearing floor joists were cut away to make room for pipes. I prayed the floor wouldn’t give way beneath me.
This older home has plenty of work to be done as well, but there is a sturdiness to the structure and the character of a well-loved, lived-in space. There are hardwood floors here too, yet where they lack shine and a smooth surface, there is a rustic look about them. Well worn, not with intention, but with time. The stain is worn in places. Deep grooves are etched into the surface. When I look at them, I feel a sense of belonging. More than any other home we have lived in.
Being worn is beautiful. When the passing of time wears away pieces of you that once were and etches grooves into your soul, you gain wisdom, new perspectives, and learn to be content with the moments of joy God offers. When I watch my children build a fort in their new backyard with fallen branches, excitedly exploring walking paths, and discovering nature around them at the end of the most grueling week, I need no more joy than this.
I may be weary, but I am carried by a God who will set me on my feet again when he knows I am ready. I know I am worn, but He sees the etches into my soul and fills in those crevices with His love so that the depths of my wounds begin to heal.
Friend, those well-worn pieces of your life tell a story. If you look hard enough, they will reflect more than trials and struggles. You can see how you too were carried and loved. You will see how beautifully worn you truly are.