Life, Repurposed: Stories of Grace, Hope, and Restored Faith

By Michelle Rayburn and Jane Rubietta

You'll find comfort, inspiration, and wisdom in these stories from women just like you. Every encouraging account shows hope and renewed faith as they have come through trials and tough times, including family struggles, infertility, health challenges, doubt, fear, human trafficking, depression, heartbreak, loss, and more. In these stories of fo

• Language: English
• Publisher: Faith Creativity Life Books
• Release date: Dec 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9781954576025

Book preview

Foreword

Jane Rubietta

Upcycling and repurposing frighten me. I am neither crafty nor particularly coordinated. I numb out at DIY shows, bewildered by their billions of viewers. Painting dressers and slathering decoupage renders me glassy-eyed. I rarely see furniture and think, I could repurpose this as . . . although I do keep broken things in hope that someone will be able to work magic. I hold in awe those skilled visionaries.

When I was growing up, all gangly and awkward, the myth of the perfect home and family held such allure in my high-decibel and chaotic life. My best friend and her family boated and skied and redecorated rooms in snappy trendy colors. She sewed and baked, tutored by her trim and energetic mother. I got in on the action as often as possible, and we held slumber parties in our flannel-lined sleeping bags with calmness all around and also, thank you very much, hot cookies.

At age nine, I didn’t know what could be behind the scenes. I only knew my own behind-closed-doors truth. Likely, life in that family wasn’t nearly as perfect as it felt. That myth, that the perfect home and life are achievable, eventually merged with the images of the godly Christian home lauded from the pulpits and study groups of people I loved and admired. By then, as a young adult following after God, I nodded in vehemence. That would be me. That would be my future husband. Together, we’d break the chains of the past and create that little oasis of perfection.

Not long into adulthood, my perfect little hopes crashed into the dead-end alley of reality. Life wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t the perfect anyone—not woman, wife, mother, friend, or leader. Even bigger, I didn’t know how to reconcile my own difficult past and current problems with the Jesus who was supposed to help a sister out. I just wanted the magic to take over.

This Christianity stuff just didn’t work. I nearly walked away from Jesus. Honestly, I tried, but he wasn’t having it and kept following me. When shame tried to strangle me (after all, I’m a pastor’s wife, mother, woman in ministry, and leader), Jesus awakened me to the realization that healing is possible with his help, and good can emerge from bad.

But Jesus refused to let me stop there. Transformation, it turns out, is not for my sake only. Jesus changes us for the good of others.

That’s great, right? But the problem with personal problems is they are so very personal, and thus isolating. We feel alone, ashamed, and too often frightened. From there, it’s not a big leap to land on failure as a woman.

In Life, Repurposed, you will be surrounded by women like you. You’ll meet such courageous people, whose stories do not end with their travail. Whether headlines come home, or heartache is personal, through their words, one truth rises. No, two:

Troubles are inevitable.

Transformation is possible.

There is a pathway forward through the pain, through the regret. These women stay in the struggle and opt for transformation. Their willingness to wrest good from hardship requires courage and strength and determination, and the certainty that God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Here, there is no shame, no myth, no magic. Rather, thirty-four sets of hands to hold as you stare down your regrets and discover resilience you didn’t know you possessed. You’re in good company.

No personal strength required. Bring your weakness, and let God be strong. Talk about perfect.

Regardless of your particular struggle, you’ll find hope here. It’s the ultimate repurposing: our hardships result in hope for others.

And, even more good news: no crafts or coordination required. (Though I do have a chair I wanted to ask you about.)

Jane Rubietta

Jane Rubietta writes about hard stuff with hope and a whole lot of honesty. Through her many books and speaking, she helps people find value in seemingly senseless difficulties, moving through transition into transformation. Thankfully, she’s hilarious; otherwise this wouldn’t be any fun. Books include her debut novel The Forgotten Life of Evelyn Lewis (Surprise! It’s about repurposing the past!) and Brilliance: Finding Light in Dark Places. More at JaneRubietta.com

Introduction

Michelle Rayburn

When the idea of a repurposed life first sparked something in me, I was a blogger who decorated my home on the cheap with thrift-sale finds. I’d post photos and tutorials to show others how they could turn junk into treasure too. Behind the laptop, I was a stay-at-home mom with two active boys who also loved the thrill of rummaging through other people’s stuff on makeshift tables set up in back alleys and garages for city-wide sales. They hunted for video games and books while I browsed the household cast-offs and rusty garden tools.

As I transformed the fifty-cent and five-dollar bargains into candle holders and luminaries, wall art, and chalky finished accent pieces, I learned to appreciate the way discarded items gained new purpose through a little imagination and a few strokes of paint. It didn’t take long to connect that passion with a life application—because everything’s writing material if you ask me.

Hardships and disappointments come our way, pain caused by careless words or abusive intent cuts into our self-image, and tragedy too harsh to speak of pierces our courage and threatens to steal our confidence. But from the remains, we rise from heartbreak and press on, infused with the power of God, who repurposes tragedy into victory.

With a repurposed life, we release pride and selfishness, choosing compassion and humility instead. Emancipated from anger and resentment, we can rejoice over a renewed mind and resilient passion for helping others. Like my well-loved, repurposed treasures, our imperfections and scars become stories that tell of triumph over the trashy stuff of life. Where there was once shame, hope shines through. Where there was bitterness, love and forgiveness have taken over. Where there was emptiness, there is Jesus.

When I wrote my first book, The Repurposed and Upcycled Life, I told my own trash-to-treasure story, how God showed up amid my stinky attitude and frustrating circumstances and gave me new perspective—and how he continues to work on shaping me into a woman who reflects the character of Jesus. I’m a work in progress! Now it’s time to share the incredible stories of other women who have experienced the beautiful transformation of a repurposed life.

In 2018, I launched the Life, Repurposed podcast, where I often interview guests who tell of what God has done in their lives. I soon realized there were so many more stories to tell—more renovated lives to celebrate. And so, the idea for Life, Repurposed: Stories of Grace, Hope, and Restored Faith was born.

We want our lives to point others to Jesus in such a way that the Master Designer and Repurposer gets all the glory. Our before and after should cause others who hear our stories to say, Only God could bring about something that amazing. We bring the junk, and he works the renovation with his power and his abundant grace.

I’ve always been inspired by God’s promise to Israel during tragic oppression:

. . . he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,

a joyous blessing instead of mourning,

festive praise instead of despair.

Isaiah 61:3

As you read each story, listen for the hope, the joyous blessing that replaces broken hearts. Lean in and look for yourself in the pages. This kind of repurposed life—one marked by freedom from the past—is for you too. I’ve celebrated as I read each author’s testimony. Praised God for his wonderful love and grace. Cried tears of joy for every victory of which they tell.

And now I pray earnestly for you, dear reader—that your heart will be stirred as you read. I hope you will pause to renew and restore at the end of each chapter, either on your own or with a group of friends. Let it change you and renew your mind. Bring on the repurposing!

May the love and grace of Jesus be with you and give you peace.

Michelle Rayburn, Editor

Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person.

The old life is gone; a new life has begun.

2 Corinthians 5:17

Michelle Rayburn appreciates how life’s difficulties can turn out to be opportunities to learn and grow. She’s the author of hundreds of articles and several Christian living books, including Classic Marriage: Staying in Love When Your Odometer Climbs, and The Repurposed and Upcycled Life: When God Turns Trash to Treasure. Michelle hosts a weekly podcast called Life, Repurposed to encourage women to find hope in life’s trashy stuff. She enjoys dark chocolate, iced coffee, and a breezy afternoon in the hammock with a good book—preferably all three together. www.michellerayburn.com

The Treasured Hoosier Cabinet

Christina Ryan Claypool

Even as a little girl, I adored old-fashioned furniture. This was a good thing because my childhood home was filled with recycled items collected by my late mother. Once with her half-dozen children loaded in her old car, she spied a treasure amid the curbside trash at a residence close to our home. Mom gasped with pleasure, but I was sure the old bookshelf had seen better days. Not to be denied, my mother marched up to the front door and rang the bell. Can I please have your bookcase? she asked the elderly female owner.

The dark wood was heavily marred with scratches, and it didn’t look like much of a prize.

Today, we would probably paint it to cover the imperfections. But in my mother’s era, Old English furniture polish was the standard cure for distressed wood, so Mom doused the entire bookcase in the dark liquid. Almost magically, the polish seemed to breathe new life into it.

When the bookshelf dried, my mother covered the deep gouges on the top with a lace doily and then filled the shelves with books and glassware. Even though I had seen her do it countless times, once more, this resourceful woman created something magnificent out of someone else’s junk.

This happened in an era when terms such as repurpose, restore, or reinvent didn’t exist. There was no category of household items or furniture known as shabby chic or vintage, no stores filled with repurposed products. If something was old and used, it was simply that, used. It was to be looked down upon, rejected, or devalued. Despite its age, if it was in less than perfect condition, an object became far less valuable. It was no longer considered a costly antique, but often it turned into worthless trash.

Learning By Example

My mother’s lesson about reclaiming the beauty of a castoff item stayed with me. Her philosophy greatly contributed to my decision to open a thrift/antique store when I found myself going through a painful divorce decades later. Truthfully, I also felt like a jilted throwaway after being rejected by the spouse who had once promised to love and cherish me.

At the time, I was in my early thirties, and my little boy was only seven. As a single mom, I wanted Zachary to have a sense of security. My former jobs as a media reporter and later in corporate sales required long hours and would result in being away from him too much. That’s why, after a lot of prayer about the future, my childhood dream of opening a retail secondhand shop seemed to miraculously resurrect. It was in desperation, not self-confidence, that I stepped out in faith to follow God’s direction.

To fulfill this vision, I rented the bottom floor of an older home zoned commercial, using the front for the store. Zach and I made an apartment in a couple of rooms in the back. The only problem was, I didn’t have any furniture other than my son’s twin bed, his dresser, and a small kitchen table. I was starting over from scratch, leaving most of the furnishings in the home I had shared with my ex-husband.

In order to find merchandise for my store, I attended auctions, estate and garage sales, and was also blessed with donations from generous family and friends. The shop filled up almost supernaturally, despite my extremely limited budget. Still, there wasn’t anything left over to afford much for our apartment.

An older woman from my church encouraged me as best she could. Shirley was in her sixties, and she took my little boy and me under her proverbial maternal wing. One day, she stopped to check on us, and I excitedly showed her the shop and apartment.

Where’s the furniture? Shirley asked, looking around our conspicuously empty living quarters. There were tears of concern in her eyes.

Don’t worry, I said. It’s all here by faith. I can already see it. I tried my best to reassure her and myself, trusting—as the Bible encourages us to do—that God would provide. Faith shows the reality of what we hope for, it is the evidence of things we cannot see (Hebrews 11:1).

Answered Prayer

My faith was definitely childlike because I had finally turned my hot mess of a life over to my heavenly Father. A couple of years earlier, I had accepted Jesus as my Savior while battling depression on a psychiatric ward, but I didn’t really make him Lord of my life.

Stubbornly, I kept controlling my circumstances and making poor choices, until my heart was shattered by my broken relationship. That’s when I surrendered control and asked for God’s help with every decision, desire, and need. My desperate prayers for my marriage to be healed weren’t answered how I had hoped. Instead, God gave me the gift of opening the store.

Regarding my prayer for furniture, before long, there was a vintage couch and chair, a wicker desk, a comfortable bed and dresser for me, and even a TV. But one piece of furniture I dreamed of having didn’t materialize. It was an antique two-piece cabinet I admired made by different manufacturers such as Hoosier and Sellers. I would see these cabinets in antique shops, at auctions and sales, and even flea markets, but I could never afford one.

That is, until the day I happened to stop at Price’s Used Furniture Store. The retail outlet was more of a bargain basement for modern used furniture and appliances, so the stately cabinet from another era looked glaringly out of place.

How much is the Hoosier cabinet? I asked, sure it would be more than I could afford. I was shocked when Mr. Price, who was about my father’s age, quoted a price of half the going rate everywhere else.

It belongs to a young relative. She’s getting divorced and needs to sell it, he said. Mr. Price explained the low price, citing the cabinet’s multiple imperfections. Decades earlier, a rat, most likely, had chewed two small passageways into the cabinet door, and the porcelain work surface was missing. There was some cracked oak and a replaced glass piece that didn’t match either.

The letters H-O-O-S-I-E-R stamped around the metal latch on the cabinet top were mostly visible though, verifying its authenticity. The bread drawer and flour bin were also intact with the date Pat. Feb. 8, 1910 stamped in the metal door’s opening.

February 8 was the day we celebrated my grandmother’s birthday. Despite being in her early eighties, Grandma volunteered in my store as a clerk, waiting on customers, ironing inventory for endless hours, and babysitting Zach whenever she was needed. The store and our lives were so much better because of Gram’s support. This made the date significant.

As for the cabinet’s many flaws, my mother’s philosophy of reclaiming lost beauty flooded over me. An antique dealer would assert that these imperfections devalued it immensely, but they only made me admire it more. It reflected my own complicated testimony of the immeasurable value of a repurposed life. I had been abandoned and rejected, broken beyond repair, but God’s grace put me back together, and his redemptive glory shone through my formerly cracked places.

New Beginnings Abound

With my shop being established by then, purchasing the cabinet from another single mom in financial need, like I had once been, appeared to be divine intervention. The Hoosier fit perfectly into the spot waiting for it in my apartment. Besides being beautiful, the two-piece cupboard was incredibly useful since it was originally created to be a functional storage unit.

For several years, the oak piece sat regally in its place—until the day the former owner showed up in my store.

The middle-aged stranger explained her relation to Mr. Price, how the cabinet had once been hers, and she asked if I still had it.

Yes, it’s back in my apartment, I said, my heart sinking, assuming she might want it back.

Could I please see it? the brunette woman inquired. I couldn’t refuse because I could tell from her eager tone, the cupboard meant as much to her as it did to me.

I walked her down the hallway and opened the apartment door. She stood speechless, lovingly gazing at her former possession.

Do you want to buy it back? I struggled to get the words out, understanding if she did, our benevolent Father would expect me to do the right thing.

No . . . I just wanted to know it has a good home. She shared how there were complicated memories connected to the cabinet. Having experienced the tragedy of divorce myself, I understood how good memories can be tainted by bad ones, even when it comes to furniture. That’s one reason I left everything a few years before to start over with a new beginning.

Now, many years have passed with the cabinet being part of countless additional memories. Memories of my son growing up, of holidays and birthdays, of me becoming a Christian author, of marrying again and carefully moving the two-piece cupboard four times for my husband’s career.

After all, our merciful Maker is all about new beginnings. Through the changing seasons, I have discovered that due to our Creator’s divine design for our lives, we can wait with expectancy in the midst of despairing circumstances. But I first learned about this promise as a young single mother fighting fear over what unexpected trouble tomorrow might hold.

As a reminder to keep the