Posted: September 11, 2011 in A Day in the Life

I have this old typewriter that sits on my desk. It was a thoughtful gift from a dear friend last year. Sometimes I look at it and imagine a hundred years of stories written with its keys and ribbon. A hundred years of headlines and happenings in the world and in the lives close to it. World wars and babies born. Love letters and farewell notes. Sometimes I think that if I could unspool its old ribbon and hold it up to the light I could read its story. The stories it has told. The stories it could tell me. The stories it will tell.

Last night some old friends of ours penned a new page in their story. Married for years, their story was not an easy one. Then they were met by a God who makes old things new. And it changed their story. So they invited us and others into their re:wedding, a celebration that can only happen when old things are made new. The evening was filled with old suitcases and cameras and window panes and the like, each with their own stories that they have carried and seen, adorning a place where new stories were being told. Old typewriters created a stopping point for guests to write new messages to the bride and groom. The bride wore a new gown which she had fashioned from her grandmother’s old tablecloths. On and on, story after story, old things were made new.

New. Today feels like a good day for old things to be made new.  Our old stories are sometimes filled with the hurts and tragedies and wounds of the past. These are a part of our story and they change us. But they’re not the end of the story. There is more to be written, much more.

My old typewriter has a lifetime of old stories of both joy and pain. Just like you. Just like me. And for all its stories, it’s still here, sitting on my desk, poised and resolute. In my typewriter is a blank sheet of paper. Empty of new story at the moment.

But that has already changed as I begin to type.

n     e     w    .

  1. musicman says:

    I love this whole concept. I, like you would love to know what stories that typewriter could tell us if there was a way to read the ribbon. The way you are weaving the beauty of your friends’ wedding into the beauty of old things made new is great insight.

    • Thanks musicman:) Your comments are always kind and thoughtful! Honestly, the blog was inspired by knowing that you’d be speaking that day and by memories on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. A sort of longing for all things to be made new that translated over to my life. Thanks man.

  2. Tim Johnson says:

    Good stuff! Just this morning, I was listening to Gungor’s song BEAUTIFUL THINGS again and reminded of the sheer, simple beauty of things made new. . .

    All this pain..
    I wonder if I’ll ever find my way.
    I wonder if my life could really change, at all.
    All this earth..
    Could all that is lost ever be found?
    Could a garden come up from this ground, at all?

    You make beautiful things,
    You make beautiful things out of dust.
    You make beautiful things,
    You make beautiful things out of us.

    Thanks, Jonathan.

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