Sometimes I think architectural salvage is a better image for new life in Christ than the “scrub down; strip; disassemble; take apart; trash elements that don’t ‘fit’; sanitize; reassemble; conform to the ambient social culture; reprogram; equip with easy answers; slot into the machine” model that characterizes much of what I’ll call the “industrial-revolution, factory-model” standard of Christian assimilation.

Monday morning is a great time for a post about creativity. Rebekah’s new coat-rack is finally completed and installed in her study at Wake Forest Presbyterian Church.

Sunday afternoon, after several weeks of sanding, varnishing, searching for the right hardware, drilling, and fastening, the old door Rebekah found behind some shed in a salvage yard completed its journey of transformation.

I’ve got to tell you, my amazing wife has some extraordinary vision! When she first came home from the salvage yard she had one long, thick, slab of grey wood; two old , mildewed, concrete pedestals; and one beat-up, paint-peeling, abandoned front door.

What I saw was junk; what she saw was a beautiful coffee table and a “statement art-piece” coat rack. Guess who was right?!

SALVAGE: What I appreciate – am learning to appreciate – about this “architectural salvage” process is the value and respect given to the integrity of the salvaged item.

Rebekah’s door was not stripped down, cut to a new size, historic surfaces removed, repainted, or otherwise changed into something that would be unrecognizable. Instead, the heart and soul of the piece, its story, still remains integral to the presentation.

It’s the same with the coffee table. When Rebekah prepared the wood, two things happened. The richness of the walnut came out, yes, but the marks, stains, and textures of time were also enhanced.

NEW LIFE: Sometimes I think architectural salvage is a better image for new life in Christ than the “scrub down; strip; disassemble; take apart; trash elements that don’t ‘fit’; sanitize; reassemble; conform to the ambient social culture; reprogram; equip with easy answers; slot into the machine” model that characterizes much of what I’ll call the “industrial-revolution, factory-model” standard of Christian assimilation.

(Okay, having just written and then re-read that paragraph, I’m making myself think at a deep level for a Monday morning!)

Obviously metaphors have their limits, but I certainly feel like more of an architectural salvage Jesus-follower right now than a nicely sanitized factory model.

I am learning to appreciate the fact that my story runs deeply below the surface, and that God loves every chip, scuff-mark, gouge, and wrinkle. Who I am is not painted on – the color runs all the way through.

When I walk into Rebekah’s office I’m immediately reminded of the fact that God loves me, restores me, brings out the character in my story, makes me shine with a new kind of light, and – most importantly – continues to tell the story of love, grace, mercy, and promise through who I am becoming as I live into The Greatest Story Ever Told.

GARDEN: One last image. I saw this Sunday in the area just outside Rebekah’s study window. I think it was erected by someone on our “Premise-Keepers” team. I believe it speaks to our conversation this morning.

In gratitude – DEREK