A Diamond In the Rough - What I learned about EBay, Barbies, and becoming God's beloved

"While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us."

I have a confession. I used to be an EBay vendor.  Yep, It’s true. I love garage sales, and old dusty treasures that most people would rather discard. To me, they are “diamonds in the rough” and I find it crazy satisfying when others see value in those nostalgic-somethings too.  I guess that’s why selling things on EBay was such a good fit for me back in the day.   I sold everything from old Champion Juicers, to toy tractors, and old hats.  It was fun to find discarded treasures and give them another chance at life.  It was usually a bit of a gamble too, because no matter what I originally paid, the real value was always determined by the highest bid at the end of the auction.

I remember the day I picked up two boxes of Barbie dolls at a garage sale.  My husband must have thought I was crazy when I spent just about all we had left in the budget on them.  (Thankfully payday was only two days away!)  I had no idea what was in the boxes, but I handed the man $25.00, piled them in my car and drove away with a new treasure.

That night, I took my first look at that investment as I unpacked the boxes. What a mess! A Ken doll with chewed up legs and a missing arm, a Barbie head with no body, dolls I didn’t recognize, old clothes and accessories that seemed faded and worthless!  It didn't help that my husband sat three feet away from me while I scrubbed layers of dirt off these old things for who knows how long. He had to be wondering why he married such a crazy person!  I remember wishing I'd waited until the next day when he was at work.  That way I could hide the grime of some of it!  But Barbies hold intrinsic value sometimes, and maybe there was value hiding underneath some of this dirt and grime. 

The pressure was getting to me as I scrubbed, Which is why when I found a pair of small red shoes requiring no cleaning, I took a picture, went to the computer and listed them on the spot.  Only in my hurry I accidentally added an extra zero to the starting bid.  immediately I realized what I did and went to change the amount from $20.00 to $2.00.  However, to my surprise they were already purchased!  I was shocked!  (Apparently, if the bottom image says "Made in Japan" , its a big deal!)  Who knew that a tiny pair of red plastic shoes would sell for more than the real pair I had sitting in my closet! So, I listed a few more things.  The Barbie without a body…she sold for $52! And that chewed-up Ken doll?  Someone purchased him for $73!  There were clothes that sold by the outfit for over $150, cars and Francie dolls for even more! (turns out the unknown dolls were Francie and Midge... and also a big deal!) In the end, my little investment of twenty-five “junkie” dollars turned into over $2,500! 

Now you might be wondering why I shared this story on a Saturday’s Blog. After all, the story's interesting but why put it into a spiritual formation blog? Here’s why:  To many, those Barbies looked like old, dirty, discarded junk.  I certainly had no idea what they were worth until I knew what someone was willing to pay for them.  The people who bought them understood their real value. And that’s MY story!  It’s YOUR story too! ...For God SO LOVED the world that He gave his one and only son...He became the highest bidder.

Like the dusty treasures I used to find for EBay, we are like diamonds in the rough. Each of us hold intrinsic beauty and value that come from being HIS. But, much like what I found in those boxes, we may look at our life and see all the mess and blemishes and devalue our worth. sometimes the pressure gets to us as we try and scrub out blemishes by acting the part of someone who has it all together; we want to hide like I wanted to hide the dirty boxes from my husband. But there is something more profound than our mess. Even when our circumstances and broken ways of living shroud us in muck, God finds crazy joy in redeeming our story.

In your messiest condition, someone saw you and wanted you.   HE is the one who sits with you in the mess and lovingly tends to your dusty story; redeeming it for something beautiful! You were made in his image. Your value was determined on the cross. Your potential has resurrection power! 

 Scripture says it this way,

…”He rewrites the text of my life when I open the book of my heart to His eyes…He makes my life complete when I place all the pieces before him…He stood me up on a wide-open field, and I stood there saved, surprised to be love.”  (Ps 18: 25,21,20 – in that order)

What are the messy parts of your story?

Ask God to show you how to open up your heart to His eyes

Let him love you in the mess, tend to the shame, and lead you into something/someone new.

After all, we love because He first loved us! (1 John 4:19)

Coming Back - This summer's journey of finding God in the storms. Part 1

 I’m writing this while sitting in Starbucks.  Not just any Starbucks, it’s the Starbucks – the one where I’ve gone for years.  I sit in one corner meeting with women talking about life circumstances and how God might be shaping us through them.  My dad often sits less than 20 feet away in the opposite corner having similar conversations with his coffee buddies.  The workers nicknamed their table “the office” as they occupy it every morning for hours.  Stories have been told at that table – stories about the market and economy, a spouse struggling with cancer, a home trying to be sold, and retired dreams still held close in conversation.  Every now and then, I hear their familiar belly laughs making their way to my corner.  There’s just one difference, my dad isn’t sitting there.

Today is the first day I’ve returned since July when my dad was diagnosed with leukemia.  which explains why there hasn't been much on this blog lately...but this won't be a sad post, because my dad is recovering.  It is, however, going to be an honest one.  In fact, a few of them will be.

How does it feel to walk into this sacred space?  Weird.  I forgot the doors open out and tried pushing them 3 or 4 times.  I’m sure I looked a little foolish before remembering how the doors work and how the fan announces every entrance.  At first glance I see the guys.  Do I say Hi?  Or do I just get in line and avoid the cordial hellos that may beg a report -  a report now recitable in my sleep...  Maybe I’ll just get in line.  I don’t really recognize anyone else, which surprises me.  Someone in here has the same name as my dad and I keep resisting the reflex to look over and greet the man with a "daughter's greeting". The barista asked for my name for the first time in years.   But several weeks have passed and things change, I suppose.  

It always feels strange to see how life has moved on while yours (including the ones close to you) has been blown over by a freight train and parts of your life are still laying all over the track.  I’m trying to pick up the pieces and find a focus, but feel so disconnected – so numb.  Is this normal?

Maybe I should feel happier...By all accounts, dad should not be with us today… he’s not out of the woods yet, but he is here.  He is probably wondering if that’s a good thing.  So much to adjust. So much to build back.  So many doctors – so many bills, so many private, life-altering moments that can never be explained.

As I watch the last of his buddies leave for the day, I am still sitting here in my corner, where a bitter sip can be sweetened with a shot of vanilla....where I finished a devotional on Ps 23, and remembered how God blesses us with a  cup that overflows of his love and goodness....where the barista's promise on the back of the cup is to "always make it right" If I don't love this drink.  ....but I know better than I did last June, the promise found in a bitter sip.

So, I have settled back into my corner, drinking my tea. What started out sweet in June and turned bitter by August is changing. Autumn is just days away.

...Maybe tomorrow I’ll see if dad can come.