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A Merry Heart
A Woman's World
A Word in Season
Acting Up
As I Imitate Christ
Cyber Walk
Faith Seekers
Golden Apples
Heaven Bound
Just Between Men
Take it to Heart
Teen Truth
The Joy of Family
The Parents'
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The Rhythm of Life
The Treehouse
Through Their Eyes
'Tis the Season
We Are the Church
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PatienceThe Antique Desk
By Joanne Malley

I opened the oak, six-panel door that lead to the attic. After fumbling for the light, illumination revealed an array of family collectibles and furniture. Hidden beneath the sheets and cobwebs were the belongings that remained from my husbandís deceased grandparents.

The house they once occupied possessed a special charm and reminiscent quality. Each time I visited, comfort washed over me. Sadly, the time had come to sell the house, as well as divide some of its history. My husband and I were asked to choose our favorite piece of furniture for our own home. It gave us an opportunity for their legacy to live on where we resided.

As I stood in sheer delight, I scanned the unfinished attic. It was filled with an alluring charm. I felt as if I were looking into a life-sized treasure chest. A rush of anticipation swept over me as I set my sights on a large desk of time-honored beauty. It stood alone, uncovered in the far corner, waiting to be noticed.

I moved closer to my newfound treasure and examined its striking details. The old, forgotten piece of furniture came to life after I rubbed a handy, soft rag along its surface. Years of dust and grime were removed, revealing a gently worn library desk of the 1930ís. I learned it found its first home at the office of my husbandís grandfather, Frederick J. Malley, Sr., successful businessman, husband, father and grandfather.

As more wood emerged from the blanket of dust, I noticed a white ring on top of the desk. I was told the area was where my husbandís grandfather placed his coffee mug at the start of each day. A warm thought came to mind as I envisioned the light steam emanating from his mug. I could almost smell the distinct aroma that awakened his senses each morning.

The desk was neglected for so long, but I knew I found a special piece of furniture. It could be reborn into another life, offering a new, very important purpose in our recently redecorated den.

For some time, I prayed for direction in my life and for God to provide a meaningful purposeóone that could be an expression of my faith and creativity while allowing me to give hope and inspiration to others. My impatience for an answer got in the way of hearing Godís reply.

But, I eventually sensed Him speak. The desk would be the place where my love of writing could be rekindled. It would also be the place where Iíd sit and allow God to use me to fill numerous blank pages with meaningful words from my heart.

I now find it ironic that just as the desk remained tucked away for many years, so did my desire and ability to create meaning and purpose on paper. As soon as I cleared the cobwebs from my mind, my stagnant desire came to life.

Since acquiring the desk, God has answered my prayers and revealed that writing had been my buried aspiration all along. I never realized writing was Godís gift to me. He ensured that lost part would be found through my connection with the long-forgotten heirloom.

When I write at my desk, my coffee mug sits close by. That tantalizing aroma always awakens my creative senses for storytelling. I am happiest when another opportunity arises to touch someoneís heart. Sentimentality prompted me to place my own mug next to the white ring made by Grandfather Fred. As I make my own mark, in this world and on the desk, a rush of sweetness is created in my soul.

Iím thrilled when so much travels from my pen to my paper. I release words, but also the glow of light that God has placed within me as I write again. I am privileged to have the antique desk in my possession and am blessed with the desire to write with words of praise.

One day, as this antique desk is passed down through the branches of our family tree, it will enjoy a new life and a new purpose with someone else. It will also continue to take its special journey down memory lane with Grandfather Fred and me as part of its memorable history.
Joanne is a wife and also a mother of two children living in New Jersey. Her love for writing ignites a desire to touch, inspire and sometimes offer a bit of humor to her readers. She has been published in Cross-Times and is also a contributing writer for Sisters in the Lord. You can find more of Joanneís writing at http://www.faithwriters.com/member-profile.php?id=6433
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