There’s a picture that hangs in my home office.
It’s one that stands out because it doesn’t quite fit the space, but it’s something I cherish deeply.
My uncle drew it for me.
It’s a picture of a junked old car.
When I asked him to draw something to hang in my office years ago, he had the best idea. He told me he was going to create a series of four drawings for my new office. At the time, I had just been promoted to marketing manager in the auto industry, and I was so excited. He was proud of me in the way only an uncle can be.
I grew up in a family that loved anything with motors, so the idea felt personal and perfect.
But after the first drawing, everything changed.
My uncle suffered a massive heart attack. He told me he would start the second one soon, but then came the testing, surgeries, and eventually heart failure. The man with the biggest heart and the most contagious love for people was suddenly gone, now with Jesus.
And I have the picture he drew hanging on my wall.
Sometimes I’ll just sit and study it.
Every time I look, I notice something new.
Recently, what caught my attention was the car itself. It looked discarded. Rusted. Forgotten. The kind of thing people pass by without noticing. But then I saw where it was sitting — outside “dad’s garage.”
And it made me pause.
Because maybe it wasn’t abandoned after all.
Maybe it was waiting.
Waiting for the right moment.
Waiting for restoration.
Waiting for someone to see what it could become again.
And isn’t that so often our story, too?
There are seasons when we feel set aside. Seasons where parts of our story feel rusted, unfinished, or forgotten. We wonder if the dream, the calling, or even pieces of our identity were left behind somewhere along the way.
But our Heavenly Father knows exactly where we are.
Even when we feel unseen or worn down, God sees us. He holds our stories with care and perfect timing. Scripture reminds us that He is making all things new. Not rushed or forced, but restored in His timing and for His glory.
Just like that car sitting outside the garage, we are never outside His reach.
I may not have the rest of the drawing series my uncle imagined, but I treasure this one deeply. It reminds me that unfinished does not mean forgotten. It reminds me that beauty can still be found in what feels incomplete.
My uncle was a storyteller. He loved people, loved books, and introduced me to classics at a young age. His love for stories shaped me more than I realized at the time.
And now, as I prepare to release a book of my own, there’s a quiet ache in knowing I can’t hand him a copy. I can’t hear his thoughts or see that proud smile. But I carry his influence in every word I write.
And maybe that’s part of restoration too.
The stories poured into us don’t end.
They ripple forward.
They become part of the beauty God continues to write.
So today, as I sit beneath this cherished drawing, I’m reminded that God is still working. Still restoring. Still telling a story — in me, in you, and in every unfinished place we carry.
Nothing is wasted.
Nothing is unseen.
And in His hands, even what feels discarded becomes a testimony of redemption.
Reflection
What part of your story feels unfinished right now?
What if it isn’t abandoned… but waiting in the hands of a God who restores?
A Little Invitation
If this story encouraged you today, I’d love to keep walking together.
My book, A Pace of Grace: Steadying Your Spirit When Life Gets Messy, is filled with reflections just like this — honest stories, gentle reminders of God’s presence, and practical ways to slow down and rest in Him.
If you’re longing for peace in the middle of real life, this book was written with you in mind.
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Thank you for being here, for reading, and for letting me share pieces of my story with you.