This is the story of a forgotten, broken down cooking pot that was collecting dust in the back of my cabinet for years and how I turned that old 2 quart piece into a repurposed planter pot.
A long ago tossed lid, a missing handle and a pin hole that’s almost invisible, but still big enough for liquid to seep out.
Why would I hang on to something that didn’t work anymore?
Because there’s a story behind it that is part of our love story.
When Trent and I first started dating, I quickly learned his love language – sweet tea.
I had to be schooled in how to make sweet tea the southern way.
After years of not making the right mixture in cramped dorm quarters, I had an opportunity to move into a townhouse, complete with kitchen.
Inspiration struck Trent and he coaxed his momma into giving him the pot she used everyday to make sweet tea. He was certain that it was the pot and that made it taste perfect.
She agreed and he brought it to me to make our inaugural first batch with success!
Cheers shouted and toasts made, but not in enough time to clean up. Trent whisked away to class while I stayed behind to wash the dishes.
Now if you don’t know by now, I have a problem with cleaning – meaning that I can’t stop paying attention to the little details instead of the big picture.
My room may be a mess, but the baseboards are sparkling.
And this is where the story turns…..
I cleaned the pot.
I mean cleaned the pot – for 45 minutes with a steel wool pad.
This pot seasoned to perfection from years of daily tea batches. This pot lovingly passed on from mother to son.
Now it was sparkly clean. I couldn’t wait to show Trent how beautiful and new the pot looked!
The next time he came by the townhouse, I grabbed his strong hand and led him into the kitchen to show him the result of my hard work. I was grinning from ear to ear until I turned to him to see his obviously shocked reaction.
I thought, maybe it’s because it’s so sparkly right?
Boy was I wrong. This was the first time that he looked at me, his betrothed, with a lot of of what-did-you-do and a hint of can-I-even-marry-this-woman in his eyes?
I tried my best to make right the horrible deed that I had done, easing the pain by promising him that, “Now we have the chance season this pot our whole lives!”
He reluctantly forgave me and that pot went with us to our new home, then to Birmingham where the handle broke off from years of use.
It joined us on our adventure to pursue our music in Los Angeles.
We move back to Tennessee, and we notice that each time a new batch of tea brewed, a small ring of liquid puddled on the glass cooktop stove from the teeniest little hole.
The tea puddled more and more until we finally and reluctantly moved on to a new pot.
We couldn’t bare to throw it away.
It was part of our story.
So it went with us to our move to Las Vegas, where it sat in the bottom of a cabinet.
And came back with us to our Almost Farmhouse where it been hidden for the past 3 years.
Just the other day, while searching for a serving dish, I stumbled upon this relic and the timing was perfect.
Perfect because you know this story is about more than this old tea pot.
It’s about how I’m that pot.
How I was once stained and then scrubbed clean.
And how as a new clean pot, I continued to work fine until one day I didn’t.
Until one day I needed more refining.
And as we know, refining is not an easy process.
Metals purified through the fire, wood cut, carved and chopped, and wheat ground to fine powder.
The refined piece becomes transformed.
And just as we fall into the rhythms of life, we find ourselves off kilter.
Our hearts need recalibration.
We must be pruned and refined so that we can give life to new things.
Old things purged, and once again washed clean.
With time, from the dead areas, new life emerges, but not without change.
Suddenly the old forgotten item transforms into repurposed planter pot. For years had been useless, but now renewed with purpose for something greater.
You think things should move one way and that direction is good. We need to let Him define what that good is.