The old cabinet leaned against the wall in a dusty, broken down barn. One end of the cabinet was badly charred and disfigured. Still, I knew I wanted it.
“What are you going to do with this big, old thing?” groaned my husband as we hauled it onto the truck. Thankfully he supported my creative idiosyncrasies and didn’t need too much explanation.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was going to do with it; but, I did know there was something underneath that broken down, charred, and filthy cabinet I wanted to discover.
At home, we unloaded it onto the driveway and discovered it couldn’t even stand on its own. It had no back and with the charred end the whole thing was tippy. I had to completely rebuild the bottom with 2 x 4s before I could begin a good cleaning.
I washed off years of grease and filth with wood soap and a little warm water. When it dried, I used light steel wool to get the last of the grime off. The wood looked really promising. It had eighteen inch antique boards that had never been stained or painted.
Next, I made a mixture of Linseed oil and turpentine and let it warm in the sun for an hour before spreading it onto the wood. Few people use Linseed oil anymore because it’s been replaced by synthetic oils that don’t tend to yellow with age; but, I prefer the old way and I love the smell.
After just one coat of oil I could already see the grain. The wood was thirsty, so it took multiple coats before it looked even. With each application and buffing, richer and richer shades of chestnut and raw umber, burnt sienna and golden brown emerged.
Whose hands have touched you? What caused so many scars? What was your purpose? Were you ever cherish?
The latch on the door was beautifully engraved or imprinted. As I cleaned it, I could see there was no rust…it was perfect. The wood had separated over the years, but the latches still closed with just the slightest pressure.
You were too fine to have been discarded. Whose home did you once grace…until the fire?
With every touch of my hands, the cabinet grew more sumptuous. When I was completely satisfied that it was finished, we carried it into our home.
“Who would have thought something this lovely could come from that old discarded thing.” he said as we placed it in our living room.
The cabinet still had its charred side, but nobody cared, or would ever notice. The beauty of its restoration was all that anyone would ever see. Where it came from didn’t matter. Its unique markings, now quenched with oil and rubbed with love, would never be identified as imperfections at all.
The old cabinet now holds my collection of multicolored antique quilts. Every time I contemplate my old cabinet resting elegantly in the center of our home, I think about where it came from; and I’m reminded how our loving, heavenly Father rescues and transforms us…even from our greatest trials.
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God has prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.” Ephesians 2:8-10