Geoff made me a jewelry tree for Christmas this past year. Not only is it charming (it’s made from an actual tree branch) but it also serves its purpose well. My earrings and necklaces are beautifully displayed, and – most importantly – not tangled.
I hate tangles.
After Christmas, when I went to hang up all my jewelry, I inevitably came across some very tangled necklaces. Delicate chains and glimmering pendants in a big tangled knot.
I grabbed one particularly formidable tangled mess and flopped down on my bed, settling in for the arduous task. Propped up on my elbows with my face inches from the knot, I went to work carefully teasing the thin chain with the tips of my fingers.
Ten minutes later, I was ready to deem it a hopeless cause and just toss the useless piece of junk in the trash. What was once a delicate piece of jewelry had somehow made such a mess of itself that it seemed impossible that it would ever be usable again. It certainly didn’t seem worth the time and effort I was having to put into it.
And then, as happens quite often in my head, an analogy began to form.
How many times have I gotten myself into a tangled mess? And how many times has God patiently untangled me?
He doesn’t decide that the knots in my life are too bad and can’t be fixed. He never determines that I am so messed up that I can no longer be used for the purpose he has set for my life. He never says, “I’ve had enough, you’re not worth my time.”
Thank you, Lord, for your immeasurable patience. Thank you, God, for not giving up on a tangled mess.