The Worn Wood Floors and How Painfully I Relate

I was having a pretty peaceful morning at home with the kiddos when I remembered to check my list and see what big chore I had scheduled for the day. It was mopping day. And I had 8 total rooms to mop. And my {plug into the wall and clean the floors much easier} floor shampooer had been on the fritz. I sighed as I pulled my curly hair back into messy bun and made my way downstairs where I would find a mop and bucket.

I try not to be irritated at times like this. I try to tell myself to be thankful for the square footage of my home. This time, I encouraged myself to take the extra time this chore will inevitably take and spend it in worship - making it a quiet place where I can pour my heart out to Him and listen as He pours His heart over me.

So I sang out the worship I heard in my headphones. I sang and I scrubbed the floor as well as I could. I sang and scrubbed with a smile on my face until I was halfway done with my chore and I noticed how long this was taking. I made note that my back and legs and arms were getting sore. I became discouraged as I looked behind me at my progress and noticed that I couldn't really tell if the floors were clean or not.

These floors of mine. They're hardwood and beautiful in a way, but they're unfinished and worn. These floors have irritated me many times because they don't look as nice as they should or could. And there's that one spot where a previous owner's dog was allowed to dig and dig and dig into the wood until it was beyond repair. These floors have seen thousands of stories unfold in the 100 years this house has stood and they bare the scars from all of it.

As I stood, trying to keep my soul singing and not focus on how bad my floors still looked after putting hours into cleaning them, my thoughts seemed to rewind and replay - only all my thoughts were about myself this time around. I was so still and my eyes closed as I saw myself, worn and unfinished, the scars of a thousand stories all over who I am today.

How often am I aware that God is working in me and yet, no one else would know it to look at me? But yes, how imperfect and worn am I and He continues to work on me. Because He loves me. Because He sees character. Because even if the world has brought scars, He still needs me to be who I am and Has a purpose for me until the day He makes me new...that day that lies just on the other side of life in this world.

How much hope fills me to think that I will one day not be seen as worn and unfinished. It encourages me to think on His promise of completing what He's started in me. {Phillipians 1:6}

And you. Goodness, He knows the scars and your need to be refinished. But still He calls to you like He calls to me and He invites us in our worn state to be a part of His story. He loves us just like we are. I can almost hear Him say it, "I love you just like that".

Our wear and tear is what helps us relate to the people we pass everyday. None of us can escape it and those of us who appear to have a polished finish are the ones who have simply covered up who we really and naturally are as a result of life.

But now I rest in the imperfect, incomplete, worn, and scarred me. I am content here because I know He is at work in me and He will forever be faithful. You too? Let's rejoice in our scars together!

~Amy