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  • Writer's pictureMarnie Hammar

Reclaimed, Not Perfect

When we chose the worn table that sits in our kitchen for sharing our family meals, we chose weathered barnwood beams that had lived a previous life to be sanded and hewn together for a second chapter in our home. We welcomed its nail holes and cracks and scratches. We accepted its deep crevices where crumbs gather. We knew, as we gathered our family for years of ordinary days breaking bread and connecting hearts, this table would be a forgiving, supportive constant. We knew that this table could handle us.⁠⠀


I’m not certain why, but I can still be caught off guard by the reality of sin and imperfection in the days lived around this table. I ask myself things like: Haven’t we learned this by now? Aren’t we beyond this? THIS is still in there?⁠⠀


But when we gather around this table’s blemishes—its rough planks now smoothed—I find its surface to be a comfort. Because this rugged table, with its flaws and irregularities, has been made beautiful in its new state and purpose. Its uneven beams have been reclaimed and remade into something new.⁠⠀


As conversations unfold around meals, we need only look down to be reminded that being damaged is just part of the story. The nail holes in my table make me think of the nail holes in Jesus’ hands and feet, and the promise the comes after the pain. Though none of us is perfect, each of us who pull our chairs and hearts close to Jesus is offered the gift of being remade and the joy of being reclaimed for a new purpose. ⁠⠀


Without our imperfection, we miss the depth of Jesus’ gift of grace to us. And without grace, we miss out on the beauty of redemption. ⁠⠀


Give me nicked up but restored over polished. ⁠⠀

Give me dented but remade over perfect. ⁠⠀

Give me scarred but redeemed over pristine.⁠⠀

Read the rest of at The Joyful Life Magazine.


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