In The Right Hands

"What do you do with all the junk?" he asked, as he walked down the hill.

"What you see as junk, I see as possible treasure," I replied.

"You call all that treasure?" he asked.

"Only when I see it as something else, something new."

I've been working in my backyard the last few weeks. It's part of a "keep 
myself busy" plan. Since the economy is flat and speaking engagements few, I 
try to keep myself busy, doing things that need doing around the house.

I am self-employed. Well, unemployed. No, self reliant, independent and, 
sometimes, bored. So, the yard and the shed need attention. Next week is 
clean-up week in my community, so we get to haul all the things we no longer 
need to the dumpsters outside the township building.

There was, indeed, a hidden treasure in this pile of throwaways. It was during 
my digging phase that I found it. My wife decided she wanted to expand a 
section of the rock garden in the corner of the yard. While cleaning up, I 
found this tiny bottle.

It's about two inches high and a half-inch thick. It looks like it had a cork 
in the top. I'm thinking perhaps a glass stopper, like one in a perfume bottle.

Of course, my mind begins to play with all kinds of possibilities. I wondered 
who it belonged to, where it came from, was it a gift from a young man to his 
sweetheart?

I showed it to my neighbor and challenged him with the idea.

"It's junk! Look, there's a piece broken on the top. I'd toss it out," he 
concluded.

Not me. It's still useful. I know every time I see it, my mind will dance. I 
like seeing it as a gift. Not only the imagined one, from a guy to his girl, 
but the gift I was given just because I found it. It can still hold something. 
I'll find a small cork and add a little colored water to it. When I hold it, I 
will imagine the hand that tossed it aside.

Junk? Just because it's slightly damaged doesn't mean it has lost it's purpose. 
Like me... I've been damaged, broken, chipped and, after all that, I still have 
a purpose.

Many tines, God picked me up out of the trash pile, dusted me off and found 
something new I could.

Perhaps this time, writing is the one thing I was meant to do all along. Maybe, 
just maybe, I needed to be broken and tossed aside in order to fulfill His 
plans for me.

So, next time you pass by a lost soul, beaten down and damaged, tossed aside 
and seen as junk by others, remember, that is God's vessel. In the right hands, 
even a broken bottle is a treasure!

A single candle can illuminate an entire room. A true friend lights up 
an entire lifetime. Thanks for the bright lights of your friendship.
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