Out with the Old, in with the Antique

A subtitle for this post could be "A Testimony of Patience and Almost to Contentment."

I am not a very patient person. Ask my kids or my husband. Usually when I want something, I want it now. I don't care if it's a reply, a chore done, or the door opened when my arms are full-- I want what I want right away. More often than not, I have jumped to conclusions and judgments in my quest for immediate explanation. I've forfeited the best on the altar of quick. I've built monuments to my own folly.

Not only am I impatient, I can be covetous. I like luxurious linens, fine china, and sleek cars. Purses call my name from distant corners of department stores. Going anywhere on a summer Saturday morning tempts me to pull off the main drag and into a yard sale.

So, the reason I say this post is a testimony to patience and almost to contentment is that I have another piece of good news. Mamash tov! I am "inheriting" a piece of furniture I've wanted for 20 years: a china hutch.

Why is this a testimony? God, correct me if I'm wrong, but as much as I've wanted a glass-front mahogany china hutch for years and years, I have not manipulated to get one. I have not saved up money for a thousand dollar-one from the local furniture store. I have not brought home an ugly one from a yard sale just for the sake of owning one. Rather, I've been content to stuff nice plates and mugs and extra silverware into a 1940s server that I don't really like (part of my mom's old set). Content except for wishing I could use that writing desk for its intended purpose. I've kept seasonal tablecloths and cloth napkins in the desk. I've been okay with that. Ideally, though, a hutch would have enough storage space for those textile treasures as well.

A hutch is the one worldly thing I have steadily offered up prayer for. Whenever Paul has said, "You don't need a china hutch, you need to get rid of dishes," I have felt a pang of sorrow-- sorrow over his lack of understanding about this very deep-seated part of who I am. Dishes, to me, are as symbolic of hospitality as a pineapple. I love dishes the way he loves sports. I've wanted a china hutch the way he's wanted a big screen TV. But I've always felt God say, "Wait. Just be patient. I know you want one. But if you wait, you won't have to spend a lot of money for one." It's about the only thing in my life I've said, "Okay, Lord, I'll gladly wait to see what You're gonna surprise me with." (I don't have "off-limits" dishes that simply collect dust. Nothing too precious. I don't mind that some people do, but my Mennonite roots say, "If you don't use it, why have it?")

So, I went over to Bonnie's today to drop the girls off after they came here to make cards for my soldier-brother-in-law. Joel wanted to see their snake. Bonnie took us down to the basement and out to see the coiled-up reptile in the big glass aquarium. Then she brought us back in and showed me the pile of junk she's happily getting rid of in this contest. (I told her I'd win for sure.)

Before we went upstairs she pointed to a piece of furniture standing dejectedly in the corner. Bonnie said, "What I'd really love to get rid of is that old china hutch."

(I knew she had it, she had wanted to get rid of it four years ago, mentioned it again two years ago, and then I heard nothing more. I haven't brought it up, either, since I knew the hutch had been in her husband's family.) "Gerry doesn't like it, we were only keeping books and toys in it, and I've never cared for dark wood. Do you know anyone who'd like to take it?"

I almost starting crying. "I'll take it! How much do you want for it?"

"Nothing!"

I was almost speechless. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

Did I mention it's mahogany with a glass front and has drawers and shelves below?