The Box of Him
In a fit of insanity, I decided to participate in my homeowner association’s fall carport sale tomorrow. Forgetting I had dumped two loads of junk at Goodwill the last time I moved, I’ve been rummaging in the depths of our attic to search for saleable items that will yield enough profits to meet my goal of buying a new pair of shoes.
On Tuesday night, sweating under the stark glow of a single light bulb, I started opening the boxes that have been with me since college – the ones I never open but simply move from place to place because someday I’ll have time to sort through and arrange all those memories in some sort of visually pleasing way.
And as I reached into one particular box, I found another, smaller one at the bottom, one that had not been opened since February 1996, which was when my fiancé and I stepped off the train that was leading to marriage and crashed rather spectacularly into the shrubbery alongside the track. I have a vivid memory of walking through my apartment and grabbing everything associated with him – presents, jewelry, photos, letters, and the wedding planning binder – and dumping it all in this box.
Looking at the pictures, I found myself wanting to go back in time to talk to the girl in them. I wanted to tell her it would all be okay, that it really was for the best. I wanted to reach out across the years and give her a huge hug and let her know that there were incredible adventures awaiting her and this was only the beginning of a better plan.
And then I realized it was getting late, I still had to iron my khakis and pack my lunch for tomorrow, and if I moved quickly I might have time to read some more of that book before I needed to get to bed. So I shoved everything back into the box and taped it up and left it in the attic.
I can’t feel the pain anymore from that very dark year, but I need the box to remember the lessons learned.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.” –Jeremiah 28:11-14a
On Tuesday night, sweating under the stark glow of a single light bulb, I started opening the boxes that have been with me since college – the ones I never open but simply move from place to place because someday I’ll have time to sort through and arrange all those memories in some sort of visually pleasing way.
And as I reached into one particular box, I found another, smaller one at the bottom, one that had not been opened since February 1996, which was when my fiancé and I stepped off the train that was leading to marriage and crashed rather spectacularly into the shrubbery alongside the track. I have a vivid memory of walking through my apartment and grabbing everything associated with him – presents, jewelry, photos, letters, and the wedding planning binder – and dumping it all in this box.
Looking at the pictures, I found myself wanting to go back in time to talk to the girl in them. I wanted to tell her it would all be okay, that it really was for the best. I wanted to reach out across the years and give her a huge hug and let her know that there were incredible adventures awaiting her and this was only the beginning of a better plan.
And then I realized it was getting late, I still had to iron my khakis and pack my lunch for tomorrow, and if I moved quickly I might have time to read some more of that book before I needed to get to bed. So I shoved everything back into the box and taped it up and left it in the attic.
I can’t feel the pain anymore from that very dark year, but I need the box to remember the lessons learned.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.” –Jeremiah 28:11-14a
Labels: relationships
posted by Lisa | 2:27 PM
6 Comments:
What a blessed point to reach, where the pain of old hurts has disappeared, leaving in its wake your personal revelations and the now clear picture of God moving in long, sure strokes behind the scenes.
I loved this post.
Thank you! You know, your post comments are just beautiful... . :)
I wish I could have been more of a friend then. But I love the you that's here & now. You'll have a tough time shaking me now sister!!;)
jules-
You make my day. You are such an encourager. :)
Love you,
Lisa
Since I've practically grown up with you... there were lots of times that I was hanging out with you guys and being that annoying baby sister, but I was also watching. You amazed me then and you amaze me still. I'm glad that you have found such wonderful peace in that dingy old box. It represents in its own way who you were and who you have become. And that is a truly amazing woman.
Nikki-
I knew there was a reason I liked you! ;) Thanks so much for your kind words. And btw, YOU amaze me constantly. You are an amazing mother.
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