“He washed my eyes with tears that I could see
The broken heart I had was good for me…..”
It was an ancient “Red barn” on Condensory road. The barn itself was considered sound enough to remodel into a horse stable. The old fir clapboard was worn thin with many storms, nail scarred and marred from over a hundred years sheltering loads of hay and feed and farm animals. The grind of wind and rain with dust and grime had done their work of all but stripping the once proud red stain.
The clapboard was considered useless except for firewood and thus taken off the sides of the ancient haven for horses and livestock and their food.
The carpenters were masters at their trade of remodeling old buildings to fit a present need. Another craftsman was standing by. He saw value in the ancient clapboard and asked for permission to take it home. He saw in his mind’s eye something beautiful about the old wood that had seen so much history.
Dusty dirty board piled in the back yard. The artist craftsman’s wife had trouble seeing the value in such a disarray of dilapidated wood! She had wondered about his sanity when he brought the old boards home. Day after day he patiently worked on the filthy boards, cleaning them with a wire brush. Each day, he would come in covered from head to toe with the black dirt of the years stuck on his face and clothing.
Gradually the boards took on a new /old look. Some of the red stain remained engrained in the wood the mar marks were all still there. Some of the boards still had the remnants of whitewash from the bottom inside of the barn. Then this simple craftsman began to work like a Michelangelo, forming beauty out of chaos.
One evening, in deep distress, a visitor came to the home of the craftsman and his wife, a friend to the wounded spirit. The kind of friend that could help the human spirit see beauty and value where it could not be seen before. Deep despair and grief.
A quiet comforting place to pour out the soul, to be listened to and pray. A warm light through the despair. Exhausted sleep, accepted, safe and loved.
Day dawned. “Come and see what my husband has been making” she said with proud delight lighting up her face. Sunbeams streamed into the quiet comforting place. Shining quietly, gently onto an awesome sight. The place of the pouring out of the soul was illuminated to show a beauty that could not be seen in the dimness of despair and tears of the night before.
As the sunbeams filtered through the curtains onto the contents of the room, the visitor was awed by amazing beauty of the four items of furniture in the room.
The artist craftsman had used the different hues of stain, whitewash, weathering and mars to make a beautiful symmetrical patchwork for the coffee table top lovingly designed with biscuit joints and routered edges showing the true color of the original fir. A bureau graced one wall and two end tables the couch. Each unique and magnificent in simplicity from the “wise old clapboard”. Someone saw value and beauty where others saw refuse that needed to be gotten rid of.
Now the artist craftman’s wife saw beauty and value in her husband’s creative gift to transform something worn out and useless. She also used her gift to see beauty and hope in a torn up dilapidated, marred old soul.
The visitor with soul refreshed, thought of the Creator of all things and how He tenderly, carefully, lovingly values His creation even when there seems no worth left. Thanks be to God!
“He washed my eyes with tears that I might see
The broken heart I had was good for me
He tore it all apart and looked inside
He found it full of fear and foolish pride
He swept away the things that made me blind
And then I saw the clouds were silver lined
And now I understand, “twas best for me
He washed my eyes with tears that I might see.”
– G bud