Repurposed

There’s nothing I like better than re-purposing old construction materials.  One of the latest projects was to build a raised garden for the backyard.  I had two-by-fours left from our bathroom renovation job in the basement.  I had a section of backyard fence that we hadn’t used on the Lincoln house and had hauled to Elkhorn just in case…well, you never know, right?  We had some chicken wire left from a task fallen out of memory.  And we always have nails from some reclamation effort or another.  So I had more than enough stuff to build a six-by-six raised garden twenty-four inches deep.

We’ve had radishes and lettuce out of the garden.  We have more radishes, lettuce, carrots and tomatoes on the way.  I have to admit that all the produce tastes a little sweeter with the sweat of personal labor and the savings from materials on hand.

Re-purposing—that’s part of the work of grief and recovery.  The loss of a loved one knocked to pieces my identity, my confidence to do much of anything, my paths to the future and the structure and order of my life goals.  It took a while to realize that deconstruction is not the same as destruction.  The raw materials were, for the most part, still there.  I had to re-vision how my life was to be structured and used.  I had to be willing to be re-purposed.

Willing to be re-purposed—I suppose that’s another description of hopeful living.  Hope is present confidence in a better future.  It is the trust that what I have will be enough to sustain me for today and to build for tomorrow.  Some of the boards may need to be trimmed and reshaped.  Lots of the nails will need be to be straightened in order to be useful.  The materials may even bear the signs and scars of previous uses.  But those purposes are past.  It’s time to discover what the future holds.

In his great chapter on the Resurrection, the Apostle Paul concludes with these words.  “Therefore, my beloved, be steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord, because you know that in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Corinthians 15:58).  The phrase “in vain” translates a word that means “empty” or “without purpose.”  In the Greek, the final words are “in the Lord.”  Grammatically that is the emphasis of the sentence.  For me, “in the Lord” my labor will not empty or in vain.  It is simply re-purposed.

Sometimes I stand on our deck and just look at that garden box in wonder.  The other day I was admiring my own handiwork once again (just as narcissistic as the next guy, believe me).  Then it dawned on me.  At some point, someone will knock that thing apart.  Maybe some of the lumber will have seen its last use at that point.  But some of it will surely be re-purposed.

As it should be.