I am practical, disciplined, orderly and flat out compliant. There is a side of me that always wants to be wild, beautiful, creative and free spirited. Sometimes it gets its way… but usually the first wins out. I question, really question sometimes…. What was God thinking when he decided to wrap these polar opposites into one average sized freckly, wolf eyed girl?
He sees the completed project and I struggle to find the pieces and where they fit. It is hard to find a place for these messy, frustrating pieces. So, I hand him each piece. He shaves away the sin, the dysfunctional traits acquired like barnacles on the bottom of a boat. Then– I begin to see the original shape and where it fits. Even the messiest of pieces are returned to me beautiful, aligning perfectly in the seeming dichotomy of me.
It leaves me overwhelmed. The thought and care to cleanse and reshape; overwhelmed as I see God’s creativity in the design of each piece. When that true shape is revealed I catch a glimpse of the originality. In the drone of the everyday i let myself become accustomed to the view outside my window… I become numb to the unique fingerprint he has placed in creation. But, when I am worked by the master’s hand I am stirred to recognition that I do not come from a cookie cutter mold.
The snag in it all…. how painful this barnacle removing process really is. With each cleaning and scraping I recollect C.S. Lewis’ description in Voyage of the Dawn Treader. Eustice tries to remove the Dragon skin three times unsuccessfully and then he describes to his cousins how he is finally rid of the dreaded confinement by the great lion Aslan…..
“Then the lion said –but I don’t know if it spoke- ‘You will have to let me undress you.’
The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I have ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off….
Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off—just as I had done it myself the other three times, only they hadn’t hurt—and there it was lying on the grass: ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been.”