As I sat listening to my pastor’s Sunday morning message, he spoke of an old recliner that he used for many years which had seen its days of burping babies, kids piling up in it, and all of the usual relaxing moments that most people have in their recliner. Pondering that example, I could not help remembering special chairs in my own life. My own father’s chair is one that I remember climbing into with Dad and my brothers. I do not have that chair, but I wish I did. I have the first recliner I ever bought when I was just starting medical school and I have spent untold numbers of hours in that chair reading and studying. I still have it and it is now in my office at work.
Another chair that came to my mind is this old greenish colored La-Z-Boy that sits in my library at home. The arms have been reupholstered to match the original color as much as possible. This particular chair was the first recliner that a very special pastor in my life had given to him by a church he pastored. He had kept that old chair for many years until the arms had been worn thin and there were holes in the arms from what was undoubtedly many years of time spent studying, with family, and even counseling his flock. The times witnessed by that chair were innumerable and special. Since that old chair had gotten into such bad shape, it was about to be discarded in favor of something new. When I saw that old worn out chair, I hated to see something like that not be repaired and then used again. After getting the pastor’s wife to let me have it, I took that chair to get it fixed and have had it ever since. What was valued and special to this pastor was even more valued and special to me because of who owned it, used it, and even wore it out so much it has a mild tilt to it.
I’ve got a chair that is conforming itself to me over time and gets a lot of use. As I started thinking about my own chair in my living room, I could not help wondering if anyone would ever think of a chair I used as being something they would want. Am I making enough of a positive difference in the lives of others that what I might see as just a chair would be cherished and thought of as being inspiring, like I think of that pastor’s chair every time I sit in it? I know this humble man thought no one would want his old chair, but I did. Do I inspire others enough that there might be a similar thought in someone else’s mind one day?
The chair which conforms itself to my form, my image if you will, could be thought of as the life of each individual whom God Himself wants to use. If I allow myself to be used by Him, I am then transformed into His image. In the process of being used, I’ll get to squeaking as time passes, my arms will get thin and worn out, and I just will not move as quickly as I used to move. However, just as an old chair that is made well, it will keep fulfilling its initial purpose. Each chair is made with a specific function in mind just as each human is also. We will all eventually reflect our owner. What does your chair say about you?