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Amelia Bentrup reflects on the pain and cost that sometimes results when God fixes us up and makes us new again. 


A few weeks ago, I did something I never thought I would ever do. I paid for something I never thought I would ever pay for. Certainly I would have never paid for or done this for my older daughters and their dolls. I sent my youngest daughter’s doll to the doll hospital. I paid quite a bit of money (considering it is just a doll) to have her fixed up and made new again.  

My daughter had left her favorite doll on the kitchen counter at night. When my son cleaned the kitchen, he put it on the floor outside her bedroom. The next morning, the dogs were let out of their crates and before my 8-year-old daughter got up, our 9-month-old puppy found the doll in the hallway and completely chewed off the fingers on one hand.  

When my youngest daughter woke up, she was devastated to find her favorite doll missing the fingers on her left hand. Normally, she is very careful to keep her toys out of reach of our puppy. They know anything is fair game for her razor sharp teeth and puppy chewing instincts. This one slip of forgetfulness and an unfortunate chain of events resulted in a rather devastating loss for a little 8-year-old girl.  

 

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At first, we resisted spending the money to send her to the doll hospital. My daughter tried several solutions, she made her doll a home-made bandage. She considered buying a mitt or glove. But, ultimately, she decided she really, really, really wanted her doll to be made new again, with all her fingers, and was willing to give up some of her Christmas presents to send her to the doll hospital.  

 

What changed my mind?

Reflecting back on this incident later, I wondered why I was so eager and willing to spend the time and money to send a doll to a doll hospital. This is not something I would have done with my older daughters. They would have had to just live with a doll with missing fingers. And then it occurred to me, what had been niggling in my mind all along.  

She isn’t going to be eight forever. She isn’t going to want to play with dolls forever.  

My older daughters are now 22, 20 and 12. I know with painful clarity how quickly childhood goes by, how fleeting it really is. 

And so we packed up the doll and sent her off to the hospital. And much to my daughter’s delight, she came back clean and was made new again with newly smooth and shiny hair and an arm with all the fingers attached.  

And it made me think about how God makes us new again. Revelation 21:5-6 tells us:  

The one who sat on the throne said, “Behold, I make all things new.” Then he said, “Write these words down, for they are trustworthy and true.” He said to me, “They are accomplished. I [am] the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give a gift from the spring of life-giving water.  

 

God makes us new again

When our souls are raggedy and dirty and perhaps chewed up from sin, God makes us new again. That is such a beautiful thing to realize. We don’t have to live with chewed-up fingers, metaphorically speaking, nor dirty souls. He will give us the life-giving water that makes us new again.  

And while we don’t have to pay to be made new again, the process may involve some cost. The process of being made new again can be painful. The Sacrament of Confession is not always easy. Change and healing can be a painful process. And just like my daughter resisted sending her doll to the hospital at first and instead tried to make it better herself with bandages and gloves, we often try to fix our broken souls ourselves, without the help of the ultimate Healer.  

 

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When my daughter’s doll arrived home from the doll hospital, the delight and joy in her face and eyes made the pain and cost of shipping it out worthwhile. Likewise, being made new and whole again through the Divine Healer and the repair of our broken, chewed up souls is always worth the pain and cost involved in healing. We are now in the season of Advent, a perfect time to get our souls clean and new again.   

 

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Copyright 2024 Amelia Bentrup
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