Recently, a friend gave me a beleaguered 1962 Toro lawn mower. He knows my affinity for such things as I have been a tinkerer my entire life.
The mower is in extremely poor condition, but it has character. To restore it will take time, money, and effort, to accomplish. Even before beginning, though, I must assess my heart interest and my pragmatic sensibility.
To be sure, any restoration will never result in a wise financial investment. There is simply no market for 59-year-old lawn mowers, at least in a general sense. And it is certain that this mower would not fetch a price comparable to the cost of repair on any stage. The one who would buy such an item would do so as a heart purchase. In other words, they would fall in love with the character, too, and dismiss the expense.
It is also true that to devote time, talent, and treasure to such a project would present a stewardship issue, namely, are there more important things for me to do that may make the world a better place? I will need to count the cost.
This identified as a given, over the days and weeks to come, I will likely do more research into the overall feasibility of restoration, of finding parts, of identifying budget thresholds, and will seek out expertise where I lack the knowledge or skill necessary to achieve a rebirth, as it were. Perhaps, I will revisit this story again in future articles for illustrative purposes or simply give updates on the progress for fun.
However, it seems to me there lies a spiritual truism regarding anyone’s penchant to bring back to newness that which is damaged, broken, worn-out, or simply undesirable. Stated differently, we are all old lawn mowers in need of restoration, or worse, we are figuratively scrapped and viewed as valueless. Are we driven to find broken things others ignore and bring them to life again?
According to Jesus, the itinerant preacher and teacher, his mission was this, “I have come to seek and save the lost.” Metaphorically, he was looking for old lawn mowers, too. He wasn’t saying that new things are necessarily unimportant, merely that all things past and present are of importance regardless of current condition. And while there is little value in finding, fixing, and fussing over a useless utilitarian object such as a mower, its worth belongs to the one who sees the potential beauty of that which is covered by the rust of time’s arrow. And just as rust destroys an item, so too, do the battering storms of life until little is left to see as meaningful.
How about us? Are we restorers by nature? Maybe you have people in your circle that are lost, broken, wounded, or feel useless. Do you see them as redeemable or simply doomed by time? Are they worth restoring?
Kent Simmons is the pastor of Canyon Community Church in Kingman. He can be reached at kent@canyon-church.com.