Among all the other changes and life events, we moved about three years ago.  Not to a new town, just a new house.  With all the “babies” grown and moved out, I guess it was time to downsize. In my dining room, I have these floating shelves above my sideboard, super cute.  I love to decorate them with my favorite things.  After having so much fun decorating them for Christmas, I decided I would do a subtle little “nod” to Valentines – I put out my paternal grandmother’s formal china with its little pink rosebuds, got a few pink things from Hobby Lobby and Target (and even had a Valentines dinner for some friends with pink chargers!).  Fun! (oh how Mama Annie would love it too, seeing her dishes so loved!)

Since Christmas and Valentines Day were so much fun, I decided a little “nod” to St Patrick’s Day would be fun too, so off to my favorite shops I went!  Turns out, St Patrick’s day is not subtle…. everything I saw was pretty “loud”, sparkly, not the little “hint” of shamrocks I had hoped for, but then I remembered: my little Irish girl! Can we take a little rabbit trail together? 

My maternal grandmother collected music boxes.  Lots of them, shelves and shelves, boxes and boxes.  I loved playing with them when I was small. Some were very large, some were very expensive, but all of them were out – she didn’t mind when we played them. This little Irish girl plays “When Irish Eyes Are Smiling”, but have your earplugs handy when I start her up – she’s so out of tune, it will give you a headache when she plays. Her dress is cracked, someone glued her back together long before I was around. Her paint is worn off in places.   I have very specific memories of this one when I was small – every time I got down the music boxes, I made sure she was one of them. I remember feeling sorry for her, thinking that no one would play with her because she was broken and didn’t play a pretty tune.  I always thought no one would want her, so I made sure to give her some attention when I visited.  Isn’t it funny the things were think when we are young?

When my grandmother passed away, my mother, aunts and uncle asked the grandchildren if there was anything in the house we would like.  I don’t think anyone objected when I requested the little Irish girl, and I was so pleased to bring her to my house. Today, she was the perfect “nod” to St Patrick’s Day for my floating shelf.  I decided to display my maternal grandmother’s china along with her music box – it might not be “St Patrick’s Day official”, but it makes me smile.  It makes me remember.   (oh how Super Nana would have loved this too!)

You know, these little treasures – china and chargers and music boxes – all contain little lessons. Titus 1:15 says, “To the pure, all things are pure”. I think this means that God can speak to me in everything if I focus my attention on Him, let my desire for His truth be the filter through which He speaks to me. So, today the lesson is about a broken, out of tune, faded out, old music box.

She doesn’t sparkle. She doesn’t sing sweetly. She doesn’t work quite right. Her dress is cracked. But she’s still treasured – not because of how well she performs, but because of who she belonged to, and the memories she holds. I don’t love her because she’s perfect—I love her because she belonged to my grandmother and now she belongs to me.

And isn’t that just like the Lord?

We may be cracked. Our song may be off-key. We may feel forgotten, or passed over, or patched together one too many times. Even in our imperfections, God chooses us. Loves us. Delights in us. Simply because we are His.

Psalm 22:30 says, “Future generations will hear about the wonders of the Lord” (NLT). I want to be the kind of woman who tells. Who shares. Who puts broken music boxes on the shelf and pink chargers on the table and celebrates every season of life, because every one is a gift. I want to be a bridge between generations—passing down beauty and brokenness, faith and joy, love and legacy.

And in this way, even my little broken Irish girl becomes a treasure ❤