Please note that this blog post was not written by me. It’s by a fellow blogger named Renette Anim. The link to her blog is at the bottom of the post. Kindly go on over there and check her out.

I tried to be a flower vase. The most beautiful one that anyone had ever seen. I had a long neck and very colourful flowers all over my white body.

I wanted to be placed on the table that guests saw whenever they first entered our home so that they would spend the entire visit thinking about how beautiful I was and ask the host where they could get a vase just like me.

I wanted to hold the most beautiful flowers and outshine all my fellow housewares on that table.

But, alas, God didn’t want me to be a flower vase.

I got to know this when I proudly presented myself to Him and showed Him all the ways that I made my owners happy and brought glory to them.

“Everyone wishes that I was theirs,” I said.

“See how well my body shines? I was made from the most delicate china,” I lied. 

I made sure to keep my body pure white to hide any form of defect or impurity,” I continued.

“Aren’t You proud of me? Now You can use me for Your work. I am perfect.”

“I am proud of you my love,” He said softly, “but I need to use you as a doorstop.”

I am sorry, what was happening?

“A doorstop? Why? Can’t you see how hard I worked? I let go of all my imperfections!”

“You hid your ‘imperfections’ and you can’t stop a door as a flower vase, my love, you will break into pieces.”

I didn’t understand. I had spent years trying to become perfect. How could He not appreciate how beautiful I had become?

I fit in! What was happening?

I thought that he would be proud and tell everyone else to be like me.

And, why didn’t He tell me in the first place that He wanted me to be a doorstop?

I wouldn’t have even bothered. Who uses a doorstop these days anyway?

Then I had an idea: Maybe if I did my work well as a flower vase, He would realize how well I was doing, and then He would allow me to work for Him as a flower vase.

I tried all I could. I spent some days at my neighbours’ house beautifying their homes, I even helped other people become flower vases, just like me, and I never took a day off.

However, with time, I forgot about our conversations and went on with my life: 

my life, which felt empty and sad no matter what I did.

My life, which felt like something was missing.

My life that I was afraid to present to Him because I thought that He would be angry with me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what I would do when it was time to give Him a report.

So, one day I asked my owner for a break and decided to go on a solo journey. I tried to find my purpose and I sat in silence for many days.

One day, I had a brilliant idea. I would learn how to be a cup.

A flower vase that is also a cup. Everyone would love that.

But nobody did. It was new, but they couldn’t relate to me, and after a while it became exhausting. I couldn’t sustain it.

I went back to Him.

“I am tired, and I don’t know what to do,” I cried

“It’s okay my love, if you are willing, I’ll make you the best door stop ever.”

“Okay, if you say so but how long will this take?”

“You’ll see.”

The beginning felt like being broken into a thousand pieces because that was literally what happened- broken into a thousand pieces.

Just when I thought the process was done, another hit would come again and again and again.

“What is happening to me? You never said it will be like this.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“I don’t know, I am tired. I need a break”

Then came the fire.

It was so hot; I would have gladly spent the night in a freezer.

Then, all of a sudden, I began to remember. All the things I had hidden in my chest of memories.

I began to remember who I was and my life as a little doorpost.

I remembered when I used to look forward to the days when I would stop a door all by myself.

I also remembered where I came from and who my family was.

They weren’t delicate white china with colourful flowers painted on

them. They were big blocks of strong, heavy wood.

I remembered all the hurt and the pain that made me decide to become a flower vase in the first place. I remembered how I was told that I wasn’t big enough or strong enough or even woody enough- whatever that meant.

I remembered.

After that, I forgave them. I don’t know when or how, but one day I woke up, and I had let it all go.

The freedom that came afterwards was surreal. Who would have thought?

It felt like I was no longer carrying a burden, and I felt the lightest that I had felt in years.

“We are almost there my love, don’t give up.”

“Why didn’t You tell me this was what You were going to do?”

“What do you mean my love?”

“Why didn’t You tell me about this long tiring journey? Why did You allow me to think that it was going to be different?”

He tilted His head and looked at me.

“Would you have come?”

Renette’s blog: http://www.richauntyrere.wordpress.com