I sit in the living room looking at my old furniture. I am semi-comfortable on my favorite couch. I say that because my back hurts when I get up, and I sink low when I sit in it. Still, I always find it familiar. It sits in my living room and brings me comfort when the day has been long and I am ready for rest. My mother in law gave me that couch. It used to be at the river house. It’s a sofa bed, and I went with her to purchase it years ago.
I recently bought supports for it. The slats that slide together I found at Walmart in the As Seen on TV aisle. It is a little more comfortable. Still people don’t realize that the bed will not open so I literally can only offer a guest the sofa part.
My other furniture in the Living Room is thirteen years old. The old comfy over-sized chair had a tear in the back of it. The cat’s had a great time with that and now there is a gaping whole that allows them refuge as they find the need. So I have been putting my throw over it so I won’t notice, and neither will anyone else. The couch that matches has one end you literally fall through if you are an adult. It supports children because I have stuffed throw pillows in the hole. Yes Ma’am I did.
Visitors don’t realize that I hot glue gunned the front fabric to the sofa, and then super-glued it too to keep the damage out of sight. They also don’t know about the evidence of children in this house under the cushions, in the cracks, and under the seat. When people come to visit it is all hidden from their view.
I look around at the room with end tables and lamps barely hanging on to their form. Writing, nail polish, and scratches adorn them. If you pick up the tables one leg is loose that I have to balance just right so the table will stand. Still I find comfort in that room. I ask myself, “So how am I gonna let go of it all?”
In With the New
See I bought another complete living room set that should be here on Friday. I was so sick of the inability to provide others a comfortable place for Bible study, we needed more seating, and of my husband and I complaining of how much our backs hurt. I also was tired of the unsightly look of the wear and tear the years of raising children and moving had brought. The new furniture should be so much more comfortable, yet I feel the tug at my heart over the old, the worn, and the hidden.
Cushions of the Heart
Memories of the past can be like that old furniture. We can be hurt by them, but not let them go to ring in the new. We can lose ourselves in the past that is attached to them, instead of realizing the pain and the lack of invitation they bring. Still we can be afraid of giving up the semi-comfortable feeling of clinging to them. We can hide things in the cushions of our mind, cover over the unsightly so no one will know. Decorate the past with throw pillows so it looks good.
This week when the new furniture is delivered I will rejoice because of the new. I will let go of the old, and release the furniture to another or the burn pile. There will still be memories of them, and the way they were once what I wanted so badly, and were so comfortable. I will treasure memories of babies using them to stand up for the first time, to tumble, and children climbing on the back of the furniture to surprise Dad and me. However, they will never again cause a back ache, have someone fall through, nor have to covered just right for company. Nope. My Living Room is gonna put on something new. We are together going to embrace the present and the future. Their is something refreshing about the new memories that will be made.
Like a Favorite Worn-out Shoe
What comfortable old memories are you holding onto? What do you hide, decorate, and gasp at that you want no one else to know. God knows that our comfort zone can be clinging to the lifeless memories of our past, and the hidden recesses of our heart and mind where we store the ugly. But He wants our whole heart. The good, the bad, and the ugly of it. He also knows that in order for us to receive what He has that is good for us in the here and now that we need to let go. He knows the light needs to shine on the darkness so we can heal.
Waiting For You
Jesus was sitting by the well when the Samaritan woman walked up for water. He knew everything about her and that made her uncomfortable, and yet she let go to take what He had to offer her now. She surrendered the hope that water would cleanse her, and the comfort that hiding from others brought her for a different cleansing that healed. Will you surrender to Him. He is waiting. He always has been. Give Him the old. He can make it new. He can make you new. You just have to get up off that what seems comfortable spot, and the lock box you keep your brokenness in, and trust Him in the uncomfortable places. We will be uncomfortable at times, but something new will adorn our hearts that we will find greater comfort in. We will still have memories, but we will be making them too.