The Divine Alchemy

Chemistry's forerunner made its appearance in the Middle Ages, when people called alchemists attempted to turn base metals such as lead or copper into more expensive silver or gold. Though the goal was never reached, the idea in itself was noteworthy; however, long before the concept ever occurred to any human, God's alchemy was at work with great success, as it is even to this day.

In his regret-filled poem To a Mouse, a lament of remorse due to the accidental plowing up of an unfortunate mouse's home, renowned Scottish poet Robert Burns wrote, "the best-laid schemes (plans) of Mice and Men go oft awry, and leave us only grief and pain, for promised joy!" This is a recurring theme in the story of our lives. We make plans, we execute plans, but more often than not the joy (gold) we anticipate turns out to be anything but. Instead, we are weighted down by poisonous lead.

But God ... He and He alone is the One Who can transform base elements into something glorious, as evidenced in one of the most poignant events of my childhood, when He took a moment of shame and morphed it into a glorious revelation of love.

My childhood is laced with heart-warming memories of my beloved great-grandmother, Mamá Nina. Her name, Nina, was the diminutive of Benigna, a name which means kindness, and described her to a T.

I remember lessons on learning how to crochet, how to make tiny stitches for a handmade quilt square, how to read (yes, I learned how to read by following along with her as she read her Bible to me every day), all while sitting at her knees on a little stool made by her own hands. Her patience knew no bounds.

I remember sitting by an open oven door on a cold day--no central heat back then to keep us warm--while she cooked something yummy on the stove. I remember the rapid back and forth slaps of her hands as she turned little balls of dough into perfectly round corn tortillas (no press needed!), a skill of which I enjoyed reaping the benefit but, sadly, never acquired. I remember sitting behind her in the yard as she watered and gave me never-to-be-forgotten lessons on the best way to pull weeds, a memory that to this day endues the dreaded pulling of weeds with warm fuzzies that make it one of my favorite tasks.

But there is one memory that, if it were in my power, I would change. There came a time--I must have been three-ish--when my grandmother, Great-grandma's widowed daughter with whom she lived and shared the keeping of me while my own mother worked, took the leap to give her bathroom a new look. Out went the tub and in went the shower. It was a process of some two or three days. How do I know? Because when the workers left for the day, they left some boards removed from the bathroom in the backyard, to be disposed of when they returned the next day to finish the detail work. Those boards, piled in an enticing heap, called to me.

"Mamá Nina, may I go play in the yard?"

"No, m'jita, not today. The workers left some boards in the yard and until they are gone it's better if you stay inside."

"But, Mamá Nina, they don't look dangerous." Mamá Nina just shook her head and went to finish her housework. To her, that ended the matter. To me? Like Eve of old, I kept my eyes fixed on the temptation. It didn't do Eve any favors and it certainly didn't me.

Thoughts began swirling in my 3-year-old brain. What did Mamá Nina know? Those boards looked completely innocuous. There was nothing dangerous about them at all.

I glanced through the dining room door that led to the living room. I could hear Mamá Nina working away in the bedroom next to it. Maybe if I slipped out quiet as a mouse and just climbed on the boards for a teeny-tiny bit and returned quickly she would never know.

Amazing how deft even babes are when it comes to disobedience. My three year old self did indeed slip out the door unobserved, bounced on the boards to my heart's delight, then, rushing in lest my devious mission be discovered, quietly stole back in.

Whew! I made it in without being discovered! I knew it would be okay! Mamá Nina was simply too overprotective.

About this time Mamá Nina stepped into the dining room, the room with the door to the yard. Gasping, she cried out, "Janine! You've been jumping on the boards!"

I am ashamed to say that I lied. "No, Mamá Nina, I didn't!"

"Don't tell me you weren't out there--just look! Those boards have little nails and they hurt your feet!"

Following her finger, I looked behind me. Well, what do you know. I had felt no pain whatsoever but the boards apparently did have little nails that must have penetrated the soles of my feet. There was no denying the tale told by the path of bloody footprints. For once, I didn't know what to say.

I felt no physical pain, but, oh, my heart! Mamá Nina bustled about filling a large enamel pan, such as were common at the turn of the last century, with warm water, kneeling at my feet, bathing the injured appendages of my unworthy self. Tears ran down her eyes and more than once I heard her lament, "Oh, what will I tell your mother!" As I said, I felt no pain. But Mamá Nina's distress pierced my soul. Any joy I had experienced by my deviousness was totally lost in the pain of realizing I had hurt my dear great-grandmother, my patient loving Mamá Nina who daily showered me with acts of love. If only I could go back. If only I had not gone outside.

But life does not come with a do-over button. The past is the past, unchangeable, forever settled for good or for evil. There was only one man in history who lived without regrets. The rest of us? As saintly as we might be, there will be memories of regret riddling our lives. The good news is: because of God's love and grace, those regrets do not have to remain lead weights around our necks, they do not need to poison our future. God has the power to turn every one of our failures, our yieldings to our mortal enemy, into priceless gold. He, God, will give to those who love Him "beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness" (Isaiah 61:3).

So what kind of gold did God turn my three-year-old waywardness into?

First, He taught me that when the Scripture says, "be sure your sin will find you out" (Numbers 32:23), it ain't kidding. That is priceless treasure of wisdom for living one's life. Second, He gave me a picture of His divine love of incalculable worth. I will carry in my heart forever the picture of Mamá Nina washing my oh-so-unworthy feet, washing them not only with water, but with her tears. As undeserving as I was, that act of disobedience, through the mercy of God and the unselfish love of my great-grandmother, gave me a never-to-be-forgotten picture of John 13:1-5, where Jesus washed the disciples' feet. With His divine love showered on one so unworthy, God turned my no-account lead into glorious gold.

Verse three of that same passage reads, "Jesus knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God" ... washed the disciples' feet. Despite knowing that He came from Heaven, knowing that He was heir to all therein, our very Creator lowered Himself to touch filthy feet, to wash them, to perform the lowest menial task for undeserving people, people He knew would, just a few hours later, abandon Him.

Knowing all that, He loved them, He showered them with a tangible act of love. Just like Mamá Nina did to undeserving me. I will always be sorry for my disobedience--but I cannot be sorry for the gold gleaned.

So ... I invite you to take the plunge into God's divine alchemy--to allow God to turn every sad regret into glorious gold: lay every one on the altar and give Him free reign to forge those sad memories riddled with remorse into golden pillars of strength. If Burns, a mere poet, could glean truths from tragedy, what can the Creator of the Universe do? With Him, there really is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13).

"Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 3:13-14).