Hope Looks Forward

In the middle of the overcast sadness one winter, I discovered some fun at the local Bed, Bath and Beyond. The $5 coupon was also a draw.

Walking through this store, it was fun to dream about new fluffy towels or dishware in my favorite colors.

But the section that always draws me in is the bedding.

Beautiful beds made up into cozy vignettes with coordinating ruffles. Gorgeous comforters. Matching throws and a headboard bookended with stuffed-to-the-edges pillows. Browsing through the area invites me to stop, choose a bed and nap.

Nay, nay. Not allowed.

In the middle of the display, I spied the perfect choice: a cream-colored comforter embroidered in a lacy pattern. Anticipating what I thought might be an imminent move, I began saving any extra dollars for this luxurious fabric.

Throughout the years, I always celebrate a move. It’s a fresh start — a chance to declutter and live with only what brings me joy. To share other décor I no longer need and give joy to someone else.

It’s a rite of passage to make my bed in the new place with brand-spanking new bedding. Somehow it signals home.

So I looked forward to the day I could move again and use this gorgeous bedding I had saved for. And glory be … when I purchased the comforter, the matching bed ruffle was on sale.

I had already decided on my new colors. Half the fun of new bedding is starting out with a color change. This time I would substitute the old cream, sage green and mauve rose with my new choices: cream, eggplant purple and turquoise. My therapist thought it was a great step forward.

In another store, I found pillow shams and fluffy pillows in my exact colors. It was a day of joy when I drove home with my trunk filled with hope. Carefully, I stored everything in the back of my closet, certain I would be using it in a few months.

But life interfered and blocked my plans. A recession. An upside-down mortgage. An increase in interest rates. The need to hunker down with two jobs instead of one and be grateful for the roof over my head.

A decade has now passed with no move and no clue when I will use that new bedding. It still waits in the back of my closet.

Several times, I have almost caved — pulled it out to use anyway and painted my bedroom to match.

But that still small voice whispers, “Don’t give up.”

I need to wait. To let that bedding be a visual of what might be coming soon. To have an object that signifies hope and keeps me dreaming of that day when I dress my mattress in a new place.

Like Tom Hanks in Castaway. Saving the last unopened FedEx box to deliver when he was rescued.

So I’m still waiting, occasionally peeking at those pillows and comforter, dreaming of my new place. And always believing in the power of hope.

©2021 RJ Thesman – All Rights Reserved

COMING SOON! Just for Today: Hope for Single Moms – daily meditations to spark hope in the hearts of single moms.

Hope Repurposes a Life

I love to find something that has been discarded and repurpose it. Sometimes it’s a piece of furniture from a dumpster find, a pot made from an old bowl or a scarf that becomes a wall hanging.vintage door

My repurposing gift probably stems from growing up on a farm and “making do” with whatever we had. DIY projects began on the family farm.

Need to make a straight row for the garden? Use sticks and baling twine. Create a toy out of a piece of cardboard and/or leftover wood from another project.

The farm rules stated, “If you don’t have it, make it with whatever you already have.”

Creativity thrived but we didn’t think of our projects as displayed creativity. More like survival. Repurposing became our way of life.

The process of repurposing has now expanded beyond furniture, wall hangings or garden projects.

I find myself taking the pieces of a former life and remaking them into something new.

After a lifetime of ministry with people, I am now focused on the ministry of words – a solitude of sentences and intentional rest.

Still in transition, I wonder how to stop being who I was? How can I best become the “me” for this season of life?

Henri Nouwen writes, “The task is to persevere within the solitude.”

It is not a struggle to write, edit and create in the quiet of my home. This is the creative side of me that has always existed.

It is just different, a new normal and I have to discover the best way to function within my changing role.

When I repurpose an object, I sit awhile and look at it from all angles. How shall I paint it or redesign it? How can it be used most effectively?

Think Tom Hanks in “Castaway as he sat on the beach staring at a piece of metal until he imagined it as a sail.

To repurpose a life requires even more thinking. How can I use my gifts to bless others when my audience lives in cyberspace? Is this moment best used writing a blog post, editing a book, taking a creative walk or reading a novel?

Which choice will strengthen me in this new role and allow me to end the day with a sense of productivity?

Can I be content to just “be?”

Madeleine L’Engle wrote, “We need to take time away from busy-ness, time to be. Taking ‘being’ time is something we all need for our spiritual health.”

To repurpose my life, I often just sit and “be.” This is hard for me – the natural “doer,” the “planner,” the “initiator.”

But as I am learning the principle of quiet reflection, I find a stronger creativity emerges when I return to the words.

Projects are completed. New ideas nurtured.

The beauty of this personal repurposing project is the assurance that God loves me no matter what I do. He saved me to “be.”

Perhaps this transition will change me into a different person. That’s okay, too.

Because hope thrives when we can be ourselves, embrace life and move forward with joy.

Who knows? I may find a new purpose for myself and be more authentic than ever before.

©2017 RJ Thesman, Author of “Sometimes They Forget” and the Reverend G Trilogy