Monday, February 13, 2012


OK, I am exhausted.

I need one of those naps I talked about last week.

Wanna know why?

It's a long story. Pull up a chair and pour yourself some coffee or tea.

Here's the intro.

"The Hub" and I treated ourselves to a rather big gift in December. We skipped birthday gifts, our anniversary gift, and Christmas gifts last year. We figured we're always kinda getting stuff throughout the year – mostly at our western festivals – so we'd save the money.


We saw something in a catalog that tempted us beyond our pocketbook sanity.

It was a life-size Cigar Indian.

Do any of you remember those?

"The cigar store Indian or wooden Indian is an advertisement figure, in the likeness of an American Indian made to represent tobacconists, much like barber poles advertise barber shops…The figures are often three-dimensional wooden sculptures several feet tall – up to life-sized.

Because of the general illiteracy of the populace, early storeowners used descriptive emblems or figures to advertise their shops' wares. American Indians and tobacco had always been associated because American Indians introduced tobacco to Europeans, and the depiction of native people on smoke-shop signs was almost inevitable.

They are still occasionally used for their original advertising purpose but are more often seen as decorations or advertising collectibles."

They're pretty cool.

So, we bought our very own.

He made a long trek to get here. He was crafted in Thailand, and then shipped to Florida, and then on to us in sunny California.

We were told that the FedEx truck would be here between 10 AM and 2 PM. Well, waiting was very nerve-wracking and exciting. I felt like we were waiting for a baby to be born.

Finally, we heard the truck approach.

The guy unloaded this GIANT crate(the Indian is almost 6 feet tall). At one point it slid partially off the ramp as it was being lowered. "The Hub" made a flying leap to rescue the crate. Fortunately, the sliding stopped or I think I would have had a pancake husband!

By the way, the crate and the Indian wrapped up in layers of cardboard looked just like we had imported King Tut! I'm not kidding, the FedEx guy gave us some very strange looks. ("Who buys a mummy these days?!")

We finally got the Indian into the house, and uncrated him. He was perfect – except for one small area on his nose that got a little crunched, and some of the paint rubbed off.

Well, I've been known in my family for being an expert at "restoration" work. I can't tell you the countless times that I have used my combination of Sharpie pens, colored pencils, and acrylic paints to mask and blend and fix flaws on my collectibles.

I'm really, really good.

So, I spent a good long time working on Mr. Indian's nose. Like at least an hour. Then, mostly satisfied with my finished product, it was time to move him into his chosen place in our home.

"The Hub" said, "Check the bottom of him before we move him. I don't want anything to hurt the carpet when I jockey him across the room."

As hubby tipped over the very heavy Indian (he weighs around 350 pounds) – I ran my hand over the underside of his base.

"I think it's OK," I told my husband.

So, jockeying commenced.

Almost immediately, a terrible, terrible ripping noise occurred. And then I saw a very long thread of carpet pulled out. Turns out there was a screw in the bottom of Mr. Indian, and it snagged a piece of carpet.

We've got this berber style carpet – with all these little carpet loops. Well, now I was looking at about 12 inches of unlooped loops.


So, for another hour I was on my hands and knees armed with Elmer's Glue, tweezers, and two pairs of glasses for the up-close work of trying to resurrect some semblance of normal carpet again.

It looks pretty good – actually really good.

The fruit of all my labor?

A crushing headache, and burning eyeballs.

Got me thinking.

God created this beautiful, perfect world once upon a time. And it was glorious. Until it got all messed up.

It had to be one of the most disheartening, frustrating things for God to see His work ruined. To see sin begin to fade the colors, and dampen the sounds, and dull the taste, and numb the feel of it all. To watch the shadows begin to take over His Light.

Oh, how His heart must have broken.

It breaks my heart to think about His breaking…

But then, in His infinite wisdom, He began His best work ever – fixing it all.

He is the ultimate Master Restorer.

After all, isn't that the Real Story behind every story in the Bible?! God at work, restoring His beloved creatures, and His glorious creation, back to His standard of holy perfection.

I might have spent hours today trying to fix flaws and mistakes and imperfections – but God moved His hand, and in one masterstroke He made restoration possible. Because He painted a cross. And on that cross, He glued all the broken pieces of every human heart back together. He retied the loops, and blended His Spirit with ours.

He did a fine, fine job.

He still does, every single day. Faithfully, He takes painstaking care – and with infinite patience He works all things together.

He's very serious about this redemption/sanctification business!

And I'm so very grateful.

Aren't you?!

How are you at fixing things? How is God fixing things in you?

Linked today with:

BLOG = "Blessedly Leaning On God!"


  1. You weaved another beautiful lesson in your story Sharon. You're a master at it. Lately my attempt of fixing things has failed. But along the way God is fixing the way I see things.

  2. What a wonderful thought! Thanks for reminding me that He is restoring us!

  3. I'm incredibly grateful! That is one of the reasons I write my somehow give back to the One who restored me! I love your story, Sharon! I'm sure your new collectible looks wonderful in his new home! Blessings! Joan

  4. Yes our Great I turn to Him.

  5. I am so happy that God is able to restore what was lost. So grateful for His mercy and grace in my life. Thank you for this entertaining and thought-provoking post!

  6. Amazing story and illustrations. Now you got me wanting my own Indian. :-)

  7. Sharon...
    I know it wasn't funny for you and Mr. Hubby... the slightly imperfect nose... the ruined carpet... but thanks to your creativity and perseverance, all is well.

    Thanks for sharing so beautifully this graphic picture of how God restores us to the perfection that He planned way before time began.

    I loved reading this post. Is there a picture of Mr. Indian somewhere?

    Happy Valentines day to you, too.

    Get that nap today, dear friend.


  8. Reading this brought a few smiles to my face. It reminded me of a song back in the 50s. Poor Ole Kolijah. I know I spelled it wrong but it was about a wooden Indian. Cute song. We have one of those burber carpets too. I can imagine what a problem that was. Good example for God fixing stuff in our lives. Thanks for sharing it. Now I'm gonna see if I can find that song anywhere.

  9. Found it. Here's the url if you want to see it. LOL

  10. Another beautiful lesson.
    Happy Valentine's Day.

  11. OK, someone has to say it.

    You bought an cigar store American Indian from Thailand.
    Yes, you did. I'm chuckling so hard reading this. Oh, how I like you!

    The lessons you find in everything continue to bless me. Being at least a nose and a rip off on a daily basis, I'm so grateful for the master restorer.


"So [I] have been greatly encouraged in the midst of [my] troubles and suffering, dear brothers and sisters, because you have remained strong in your faith. It gives [me] new life to know that you are standing firm in the Lord. How [I] thank God for you!" (1 Thessalonians 3:7-9)

Thanks for your comments - it is such a joy to be sharing my journey with friends like YOU!

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