Restored

     I hope all of you fellow moms out there had a great Mother's Day!  Last year my Mother's Day was a bit of a "doozie".  It's been a year now, and I can finally bring myself to talk about it. ;)  Typically, most favorite thing on Mother's Day is to enjoy a picnic in the great outdoors with my husband and two boys.  I like to find a big oak tree, spread out a big quilt, eat sandwiches, and drink IBC Rootbeer.  (Chocolate is also involved!)  Last Mother's Day before leaving for the park--we had a bit of an incident.  The picnic basket and cooler were packed.  I went to put them in our mini-van, but then realized that I didn't have the keys. So,  I left them behind the van while I went inside to get them--but somewhere along the way the whole idea of getting keys and putting our picnic in the van got lost.  When my dear husband asked if I was ready to go, I said, "Sure, go ahead and back the van out of the garage."  
     I think you can guess what happened.  I was still inside when the travesty occured.  My husband came inside, first telling me no one had been hurt.  (Okay, I was glad for that.)  But I could tell that whatever it was, it wasn't good.  After my husband told me that he had crushed the picnic basket, I remained calm-since I realize Mother's Day is all about just being with my family and I just said, "That's okay, honey, you didn't mean to." I pretty much freaked out.  Even though my husband was not at fault, I really needed someone to blame. 
     You see, this picnic basket is pretty special.  My sweet hubby bought it from a crafter in the mountains of N.C. when we were dating and we took lots of picnics together.  There are ring stains on the top of it that I cherish because they are from where we put our drinks when we used it like a table. (Back when it was just the two of us.)  I was just so devastated that our beloved picnic basket was ruined.  In my frustration, I lifted the lid of our big trash can to throw away the obviously unrepairable object.  My husband stopped me.  He said, "Letha, your daddy can fix this."  I really had not considered that--and wasn't sure it was possible.  I just left it there on the garage floor. 
     Later, I did give my dad the picnic basket.  It was in shambles.  I really wish I had taken a "before" picture.  My dad is pretty amazing.  He was able to use all the same parts, and lots of wood glue to repair it.  There was one tiny piece of wood he never found (it's probably lodged in the rear bumber of our van).  He added a few screws, and ta-da!  My dad restored my picnic basket. It now works like it was intended to. I'm so glad I did not give up and throw it in the trash! 

     My smashed and broken basket reminded me of how we are sometimes.  Our souls hurt.  Our souls are burdened. (Maybe if feels like the weight of a mini-van)  Our souls are sinful.  We come unglued. (Like I did last Mother's Day.)  God wants to restore us.  He wants to make our souls right with Him.  He is the God of all Comfort. 

"...He restores my soul.  He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake."

Psalm 23: 3

          You see, this picnic basket is pretty special.  My husband bought it when we were dating.  It is handcrafted by a mountaineer in N.C.  It has seen many a delicious picnic.  And to make it even more beautiful-- it was crushed by our mini-van, then beautifully and lovingly restored by my daddy.