A Snapshot.

David has a far from empty garage without a single car in it, and nights when I sit working on my computer, he often disappears to his land of hobbies. David collects projects like stray cats. Three of the six bikes that hang from the ceiling of the garage were "rescued" and "nursed" back to health. Among the bikes are tools of every shape and size, bits of wood he's scavenged, and an assortment of other random treasures that one day he might make into something. 

Since we've lived here, many interesting creations have emerged from the man-cave: a clock made of bike parts, a bedside table, and tonight, a refurbished guitar. It was a guitar he found in a closet in his parents' house, and it was missing most of the front pieces, all the strings, and it was scratched to hell. But after an hour of piddling, he came tromping back in the house grinning from ear to ear, declaring he'd drilled holes into it until it was playable. "You've just got to hear this wonderful, trashy sound," he said as strummed, marching around the room.

Now, he sits in the other room, tuning, picking, and writing melodies that fit the personality of this new guitar. We don't need a new guitar, and the guitar is far from new, but I can't let go of that image. It's such a wonderful snapshot of David - sweaty, covered in dust, grinning and coaxing sweet nothings out of a no longer broken guitar. He is like that. He can dream up beauty. Make something out of nothing.

One of his closest friends likes to tease me when I start writing like this, always saying, " I bet that means something doesn't it, Miss Writer." So, yeah, I think in analogies - cars are freedom - leaves are change - etc. etc. In a way, I'm making something out of nothing too, but here it goes:

As we live our lives in turmoil, in transition, in loss, in uncertainty, I take comfort in that grinning man who saw the broken guitar not for what it was, but for the instrument it could be. What a picture. Even in my chaos and brokenness, I am not a wrecked instrument. I won't beat the analogy to death here, but the man that walked in my door tonight strumming a guitar reminded me a whole lot of another Creator... Oh boy, now Creedence Clearwater Revival is filling the house, and David will probably kill me for writing this post haha.

It's a little more than an instagram, but it's a snapsnot of my thoughts and the Elmer house tonight.