It's a Mess. I Mean a REAL bone-eh- fied. Mess.

I just opened this box. It's the box my Daddy made me. I cherish it ... It's strong. It was built to last. With hands though callused, were gentle. It was designed by daddy.  My sister's each have one, too. Three terribly lucky girls.

I've seen my little sister's box. It's packed with treasures. In tiny little boxes all stacked in that particular way that only a puzzle fits together. Mine?  (You read my title right?) NEED I say more? Um. Yea. I do. 'Cause this is a blog about the mess I have in  my tiny little treasure box.




Look at it. I'm ashamed. But, in my defense? I packed this little box to carry with me to Hawaii. Well. I had it SHIPPED to Hawaii. That was a mess. I tried to clean up. But, just never could wrap my head around it. So I mini-organized it. And then it got trucked all over the Big Island packed in a box and shipped to North Carolina. Why to North Carolina? Good question. Hmmm? I don't know. Because I had every intention of living in this Little Town in California - probably before I came here. But. I digress.






Today I'm sitting in my little room in my yoga dress listening to Andrea Botelli sing something beautiful. And I'm looking at all my little treasures that traveled once again ... and now resides with me in Northern California and I'm thinking ... "What a mess. It looks just like me." This tangled mess of "treasures" are in an indescribable knot of necklaces, earrings, pins, pendants, bracelets. My Aunt Millie's pearls. A beaded garnet necklace/glass holder. A beautifully specially designed necklace for me, by my niece Lory. A hand crocheted beaded necklace from my French speaking friend - Isabelle.

The treasures I have remaining. May be unremarkable ... but, what they represent? Lives of those I have loved. Who have loved me. I want the lessons each of those loved ones have taught me to be remembered. So I carry simple treasures all jumbled up in my special box and in my heart ....

And as I untangle each chain, each bead, each memory? I will rejoice in all the little things that brought me to this place. In this time. And deeper than that ... the One who brought me here. Carried me. Loves me. Speaks His love to me a hundred times a day. My heart can sing today. Even though yesterday was full of sorrow. Because it's His enduring love that sustains me ... gives me strength ... and fills my heart with joy in His presence. Truly my Beloved is mine and I am HIS.


Comments

Mollly said…
Aww, I love you and your mess!
Sara said…
LOL! What Molly said. :-) Beautifully written, DeMama.

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