Broken and Beloved

"You want to save that?" Asherel asked laughing, as I pulled out a little bent paper angel from the ornament box.
"You made it, didn't you? Of course I am saving it," I answered.
"But it is bent," she observed.
So who isn't?, I thought.

We finished decorating the second tree which stands in the dining room. This tree is our colorful, whimsical tree. The elegant crystal and white tree is in the great room, and only carefully selected crystal, clear, or white ornaments (many from my parents' tree which my mom gave to me) are allowed to grace its more expensive pre-lit branches.

The dining room tree is for all the homemade ornaments from my friends, my family, my children and my art students over the years. There is no unifying theme other than bright and colorful..... and often old and slightly damaged . This has always been the tree the kids have decorated and I don't try to manage or direct how the ornaments are placed. In the past, it has often been pretty unusually balanced- most ornaments on the bottom three branches and none on the top.

"Did you make this?" I asked, holding up a wilted looking dragonfly.
"Yes," she laughed, "I think it is a dragonfly."
I am not sure what a dragonfly has to do with Christmas, but I clipped it on the tree.
I pulled out a little crocheted ornament, made by my neighbor with the date when Anders, my first son was born. It was stained around the edges.
"That looks a little old," said Asherel.
Yes, as old as the joy of my children gracing the earth's crust!

"Why are you hanging that one?" she asked, as I nestled a sleigh on an upper branch,"It only has one runner."
"My dad gave it to me, " I said, "When I set up my first Christmas tree."
And so the memories slowly paraded out of the box, a collection of misfits, damaged, and old ornaments of my life.

We stepped back when the last ornament went on the tree. Funny how all those broken, faded, ancient baubles looked so pretty and complete all together against the Christmas lights.

Our next adventure was to head out to the luthier and assess the cost of repairing Asherel's cracked guitar. I know many of you are surprised to see me use such an unusual word and until yesterday, I didn't know what it meant. A luthier is someone who repairs or works on stringed instuments, or luths(lutes). It did not occur to me as we drove to visit the luthier that we had spent a day amidst broken but beloved things.

Asherel lovingly opened her case and the luthier gazed at the Epiphone guitar.
"What do you think?" I asked.
"Honestly, I would get your money back unless you got a stupendous deal on it and buy one new for what it will cost to fix it."
I didn't look at Asherel's face, but I knew that would be the equivalent of throwing away the broken dragonfly ornament to her.
"How much did you pay for it?" he asked.
"I don't know," we answered, "My husband won't tell me."
"Well if you paid more than $200, it is not worth fixing. And even if we do fix it, the line of the crack will be repaired, but it will still show.  It will cost $100.... and that's if the electronics work." He fingered the loose volume knobs. The epiphone can be either acoustic or electric.
"Did anyone check to see if these work?" he asked. We somewhat abashedly shook our heads.
"She is really only using it right now as an acoustic guitar," I explained.

He was a kind man, and he touched the John Lennon signature.
"This is a good guitar," he said, "And the Lennon signature is cool. Why don't you call your husband and find out what he paid?"
So I did, but Arvo wouldn't tell me, so I handed the phone to the Luthier.
"Yes," I heard him say after he explained the situation to Arvo, "I understand. That is my favorite (meal) (Beatle) too."
Now I am not sure which he said but it is critical in guessing the guitar price, my dear Watson. You see, I think he said "meal" which means Arvo had said, "I can't tell them the price or I will have to eat some humble pie", which means he spent way too much for the broken guitar.
On the other hand, Asherel thinks he said, "Beatle" which means Arvo was explaining how much Asherel loves the Beatles, particularly John Lennon, and even though the guitar was broken, it was dirt cheap and he couldn't pass it up.

The luthier handed the phone back to me, and Arvo told me to go ahead and get it repaired.
I hung up and asked the luthier ,"He says fix it..... what did he pay for it?"
"I am sworn to secrecy," said the luthier.
"Well can you tell me this- was it worth it?"
"Depends on your income," he answered cryptically.
"What caused these cracks and damage?" I asked.
"Oh drinks spilling on it and not being wiped up...hard living. This guitar has needed a little TLC for a long time."
I smiled at Asherel, "I think God sent you this guitar just in time."

So none the wiser on the cost, we left the broken guitar with the luthier and headed home to our broken lifetime of ornaments. I reflected on the luthier's parting comment and thought about how all of us are in need of a little TLC. Sometimes it is a long, long time in coming, and we fear the crack will become more than just a surface blemish. Sometimes it threatens to break through into our core, and affect our ability to sing with the voice of wholeness and beauty that we were designed for.

But sometimes, in fact,  I think every time, if we get the whole broken mess of our soul to the Master Luthier in time, the cracks may still show, but they will not affect the ability to join in the Music. I smiled at our bright cheerful Christmas tree before I turned it off for the night.

Isaiah 65: 14, 17-18, 24-25
¹⁴ My servants will sing
   out of the joy of their hearts,
but you will cry out
   from anguish of heart
   and wail in brokenness of spirit.
 ¹⁷ “See, I will create
   new heavens and a new earth.
The former things will not be remembered,
   nor will they come to mind.
¹⁸ But be glad and rejoice forever
   in what I will create,  
²⁴ Before they call I will answer;
   while they are still speaking I will hear.
²⁵ The wolf and the lamb will feed together,
   and the lion will eat straw like the ox,
   and dust will be the serpent’s food.
They will neither harm nor destroy
   on all my holy mountain,”
            says the LORD.

Broken Instruments

She had fallen in love with the Epiphone guitar, with the John Lennon signature but we knew that we could not afford it. So she tried several guitars, but kept looking longingly at the Epiphone and returning to it. Arvo had promised her a guitar if the Giants won the World Series, but he didn't promise her a good guitar.

When we mentioned we were guitar shopping to her teacher, he asked which she was leaning towards.
"I liked the Lennon Epiphone," she said wistfully.
"That's a good one," he agreed.

Asherel is a good kid, and I knew she would not beg for a guitar we could not afford. On the other hand, she is begging for an iPhone, but she has offered to pay for it herself. Her dog sitting business is booming and the future is too distant to worry about things like how to pay for college or a car. She has set aside money that she plans to give to a worthy cause from her earnings, and the rest is burning a hole in her greed-control. However, it is not enough to buy the Epiphone. We discussed that she should spend a long time searching for just the right guitar, as it would be one she would likely own for many years.We knew the perfect guitar would find her.

Last night, Arvo called from work. He had been perusing Craig's List and had found an Epiphone guitar for sale. It was being sold by the cousin of the lead guitarist of the band, Kiss. It had a surface crack,just in the lacquer, but was otherwise in beautiful condition.
"Are you sure you should get it without asking Asherel?" I warned.
It was apparently a stupendous enough deal he was willing to take a chance.

So he lay the case down in front of Asherel and told her to open it. She obviously knew it was a guitar, but she didn't know which guitar.
"Oh wow," she said, smiling as she opened the case. The coveted Epihone gleamed before her. I don't think she even noticed the crack. She lifted it out of the case and strummed a few chords.
"It's easy to play!" she announced, "Thank you!"

I will look into the cost of having the crack repaired. However, there is something about the crack in the beloved guitar that reminds me of our relationship with God. We are all flawed, all cracked instruments in the hands of the Maestro. But when He looks at us, He doesn't see the cracks..... all He sees is our potential to make music with our souls that rise in response to His direction.

Maybe I should leave the crack as a reminder.....

2 Timothy 2: 20-22
...some are for special purposes and some for common use. ²¹ Those who cleanse themselves from the latter will be instruments for special purposes, made holy, useful to the Master and prepared to do any good work.  ²² Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.

Psalm 51:16-18 (New International Version, ©2010)

¹⁶ You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
   you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
¹⁷ My sacrifice, O God, is^[a] a broken spirit;
   a broken and contrite heart
   you, God, will not despise.

Anadiplosis

When we study poetry, or literature, there are often clues to understanding. A major clue is repetition.  This rhetorical device is called anadiplosis, latin for "doubling back". In the world of a family, this is called "nagging". In the spiritual realm, it is called "conviction". They all mean the same thing- the pounding over the head of thick skilled Neanderthals the meaning one wishes to impart. I cannot tell you how many times I have told Asherel during our Bible study time, " if God repeats it, pay attention!"

We had an exciting afternoon planned. We were to visit the guitar shop so Asherel could begin testing various instruments. The Giants won the World Series and Asherel was holding her dad to his promise of a new guitar in that event. There were hundreds of guitars to strum- ranging in cost from a little over a hundred to thousands of dollars. I could not so much hear the difference between the varying potential bankruptcy provokers, as feel the difference. The more expensive guitars felt better and played more easily. The wood was heftier and more beautifully grained. The expensive guitars were beautiful. The cheaper guitars looked cheap. Asherel most loved the guitar with the mass produced autograph of John Lennon etched on it.


"Don't look at the outside," we warned her, "Find a guitar that is easy to play, that sounds good, that feels right. How it looks is not important."
My words to my Mom that very afternoon echoed back to me. We were commiserating about the insults of old age upon our bodies, and she mentioned a litany of the less than delightful results of walking on earth for a few decades, one of which was "alligator skin."
"Yes," I agreed, "But it is as it should be. The external wastes away but the internal spirit grows more beautiful each day.... at least in theory."
And here I was reminding Asherel of the same message. Look beyond externals!

After trying many guitars, we went next door  to have dinner at the Souper Salad. It appears that it is a favorite haunt of senior citizens. We settled down to our meal with Asherel and I continued my highly illuminating discussion about selecting the right guitar.
 Arvo warned her that while the autograph was a nice touch, she may regret it down the road. Perhaps she would grow disenchanted with John Lennon, but the autograph was permanent.
"You must choose a guitar based on its insides," I advised, "It is almost a spiritual connection with your guitar."
She looked at me with skepticism, as though I were not advising with the wealth of fifty years of experience and knowledge and a spirit growing daily more beautiful from the inside out.
"I mean," I explained, "Choosing a guitar is a very individual thing. Each person finds the one that feels just perfect in your hands. You will sense when you have found just the right one."
(This wise advice of course coming from someone who has never, not even once, selected a guitar.)


I went on in this vein, waxing poetic about the music of the soul reaching from the depth of spiritual praise to grasp the beautifully crafted instrument that had been prepared just for her very fingers....when Arvo began to chuckle. He was looking at the bill from the restaurant. He handed it to me and pointed to the top line.
"Senior Citizen discount- 10%" it said.
"WHAT!?" I exclaimed, "They didn't even ask us how old we were! What is a senior in this place- 50? Surely they don't think we are 65. Please tell me I don't look 65!!!" I fell silent, and on the drive home rubbed gently at my clasped hands with their alligator skin.


And this is why God needs to repeat His message so frequently. The human heart is resistant to learning the truths that really matter.

1 Peter 3:4-5 (NIV)
Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. [5] For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful.

Deuteronomy 7:6-8 (NIV)
For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession. [7] The Lord did not set his affection on you and choose you because you were more numerous than other peoples, for you were the fewest of all peoples. [8] But it was because the Lord loved you and kept the oath he swore to your forefathers that he brought you out with a mighty hand and redeemed you from the land of slavery, from the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt.