There is an old desk sitting in my garage.  It’s old.  It’s worn.  I’m not sure of it’s purpose but it does holds all the papers that come with the lawn mowers, chain saws and more.  It also seems to be the depository for anything and everything.   Better to have it in the garage then in the house.  We tried to move the old desk in the house.  Due to it’s age and size it didn’t fit well in a small house. The roll top was not designed for modern day computers.

It was my dad’s desk.  I’m not sure why I wanted it.  There are no fond memories associated with the desk.  It’s just a desk.  For some reason I can’t seem to get rid of it.  Oh, I’ve researched it.  It might be worth a hundred bucks.  Maybe.  But, I can’t seem to let it go.  Is there a subconscious attachment?  I really don’t think so.  Mom asked me if I wanted it.  I said “sure.” That was the total extent of the conversation.

I don’t think it has anything to do with our relationship.  Dad and I didn’t have great moments to share.  I was the only one of four not to speak at his funeral.  I didn’t have anything to say and I was not going to make dad out to be bigger then he was.  We didn’t talk long walks together.  We didn’t play games either.  I never rode a bike with him.  I’m not sure he could.  Dad wasn’t a bad dad.  He wasn’t a great one either.  He didn’t have to be.  He was just dad.

Before it was dad’s desk it was my grandfather’s.  I know for sure it holds no sentimental value with him.  He was a bigoted drunk.  At his funeral the rent-a-pastor was giving the eulogy.  I turned to my dad and asked if we were at the right funeral.  Whoever the slick talking pastor was talking about, wasn’t my grandfather.  He made Pop out to be someone he was not.  Dad didn’t scold me.  He chuckled.  I wasn’t imagining things.  

So, what makes it so hard to get rid of the old family desk?  I’m sure some readers are thinking I need to go to a psychiatrist on this one.  No, not really.  The old desk reminds me it’s o.k. to be an old desk.  

In the Christian faith we get this idea that faith in Christ should make us giants for Jesus.  How many times are we politely reprimanded for failure at morning devotions, Bible reading, prayer and other church disciplines?  The expectations we have created in the Christian community are often impossible to achieve.  It doesn’t seem be acceptable to be an old desk.  

When dad died we had to go through his things. We were surprised at the tokens the old drawers held.  There were random birthday cards.  There were a few notes from the kids and mom.  There was no rhyme or reason as to the different momentos he kept.  We sat for hours trying to figure them out.  We couldn’t.  The old desk held the mystery of a life in it’s hiding places.  We don’t know the reasoning behind each one.   We never will.  We don’t have to figure it out.  It was for dad and the old desk to know.  

As I looked at the old desk this morning it holds my momentos.  To anybody else, it’s junk.  But it’s not junk to me.  It’s my life.  The desk doesn’t fit todays world.  It lost it’s varnish and luster a long time ago.  There are scars all across the top and front.  There are missing bolts as well.  It looks sturdy.  Truthfully, half the bolts are missing and it wouldn’t take much to have it crumble.  However, if anyone looked at it they would know it’s purpose.  It’s just a desk.

Maybe, I’ve passed the line where I look more towards death than life.  Maybe, I’ve finally realized all the world has to offer doesn’t satisfy beyond a few minutes.  Maybe, I’m now the old desk.  Maybe.

Or maybe I’ve spent too much time and money trying to be something I’m not.  Maybe I thought Jesus would propel me upwards and onwards.  Maybe I finally figured out it isn’t so much a leader Jesus wants me to be but a follower.  He wants me to be content to be a follower of Jesus Christ.   Jesus didn’t take the brightest, smartest and most equipped.  He wasn’t born into royalty and his death was far from royal.  He doesn’t have us climb mountains that some have told us to climb.  No, he climbed it.  It’s called Calvary.  And He takes in old desks.  And It’s o.k.