Our church youth group was having a yard sale. That is cause for celebration at my house. It's time to get rid of some of our "stuff"...okay, time to get rid of lots of our "stuff". As we were deciding what would go, and what would stay, my husband said something about the youngest prince's guitar. His first guitar...he has another better one. So we put it in the yard sale pile.
Enter young prince. He tells me that he doesn't want to get rid of the guitar. I, who sometimes have problems letting go of things myself, begin to reason with him...Do you ever actually play it? Don't you have a better one? You could sell this one, and make more money for us to donate to missions...
He responded with...No, but it has a broken string. Yes, I have a better one, but (cousin's name here) gave it to me. Well,...okay,...I guess so.
Score!!! Back to the yard sale piles with the guitar. We load everything in the car and head out to organize and price everything that has been donated.
We work like crazy. Piling. Sorting. Folding. Hanging. Pricing. Somewhere in the midst of all the craziness, a lady comes in and bargains for some of our better bigger items. I pay her little mind, I am a busy woman.
Almost four hours later, we are home. Tired and hungry. It is after 10:00 p.m., and we haven't had dinner (I know, I am a horrible mother.) We all begin to scrounge around to get something to eat, get our baths (because we are WAY past dirty), and get in bed...we are supposed to be at the yard sale at 7 a.m. the next morning. Once again, I am a woman on a mission.
Until I notice that the young prince is fighting back tears. I go into full Momma Bear mode...wondering who on earth hurt my precious only son (never dreaming I, myself was the culprit). After a little cajoling, I finally get him to tell me what was wrong.
It was the first thing to go. He watched her buy it. Standing there willing her to change her mind and put it back. It did have a broken string, after all.
He says it's no big deal, but his broken heart tells me otherwise. Obviously he has precious memories attached to the guitar, that I did not know about.
I ask if he wants another one like it.
He tells me that it wouldn't be the same.
My heart breaks for my tenderhearted prince. I was the one who convinced him to give it away in the first place. I try to console him with the fact that even though the guitar is gone, he still has the memories connected to it. They were not taken away from him.
He wasn't accusing or disrespectful, just completely brokenhearted.
Dinner eaten, baths taken, we all fall exhausted into bed, but my precious son is still morning the loss of one of his favorite possessions. My heart breaks along with his.
Middle of the night...youngest princess joins her daddy and I...awakened by leg cramps...Tylenol...rubbing of the legs...finally, everyone asleep again.
Morning. The prince and I decide that he will take the oldest two to help work the yard sale. I will stay and let the youngest princess sleep in. Then in a couple of hours, I will go to work the yard sale, and he would stay home with the youngest princess, and get some studying done.
His yard sale shift over, the prince comes home, and I go to take my turn. My friend who helped the lady (that bought the guitar last night) mentioned in passing, that the lady (who bought the guitar) would just go to her place down the street, and re-sale what she had just bought from us.
What!! You know her!! The lady that bought the stuff last night!! She's just down the road you say!!
And to make a long story short...we are now the proud "new" owners of a guitar (not just ANY old guitar, mind you, but THE guitar). You know, the one with the broken string. The one that has sentimental value to it. The one my son never wanted to get rid of in the first place.
And the broken heart has turned back into a crooked grin. And that grin, it heals my broken heart in ways words can't express.
If you read my blogs often, or know me, and my children personally, you know that I am not a purponent of giving children everything they want. I usually use circumstances such as these as teachable moments, because I want my children to know that life does not always go the way they will want it to. And they need to know how to handle their disappointments in godly ways.
I gave in this time, and did what was necessary to help my son out. And I know that he learned several important lessons. The main one being that his mother made a mistake, and did what she could to make things right (because she loves him dearly), and because that is what one should do, when they make mistakes; do what is possible to make things right.
He also knows that what matters to him, matters to me. Maybe it's been too long since I've demonstrated that to him. With God's help, I will show him more often.
Jude 1:22 And of some have compassion, making a difference: