My neighbor, Margaret, had a
little bell by her back door, and when my children were tiny, every time we
visited, I’d hold my son and daughter up so they could ring the bell. As they
grew older they could reach the bell themselves making it sound to alert
Margaret they were there to play cards, drink sodas, and eat cookies.
But as the years went by, the
children grew into teenagers, and their interest in ringing the bell waned. My
neighbor repainted her house and took the bell down.
I saw it one day on a shelf in
her utility room. Made of cast iron, it had grown rusty in the southern
humidity and looked a bit like scrap metal.
“What are you doing with that
bell?” I asked.
“I guess I’ll get rid of it,”
Margaret said. “Do you want it?”
I nodded.
I took the bell home and put it
on a shelf myself trying to decide what to do with it. A short time later, our
dear neighbor died.
Recently, I came upon the rusty
bell, took if from the shelf and decided to see if sanding and a
new coat of black paint would make a difference. It did, and I put it by the
studio door. I included a photo of it in my blog banner.
William Morris said, “Have
nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be
beautiful.”
Not exactly a sight to behold and not anything
one might actually call lovely, I believe my bell to be beautiful. I can
see it from my office in the sunroom, and it reminds me of bright days, and
children’s laughter, and my wonderful neighbor. And occasionally I give it a
little jangle when I go to the studio.
Ecclesiastes 3:11 reads, “He has
made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human
heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”
How God makes everything
beautiful in its time is beyond my understanding. A whole lot of things
look really ugly to me right now. And yet, that’s what the book says.
But, I remember situations which
looked impossible decades ago, and yet now, I see God has redeemed them and
reframed them in the context of eternity.
Sometimes we may feel set aside, but just like my neighbor's rusty
bell, God gives us new life when we submit to him for what can feel
like sanding, but under his care, we once more ring out with purpose.