People are not like office furniture.

I got new glasses recently. (Quick plug: I got them from Zenni Optical. They are way different from what I normally choose, so I wasn't sure I liked them at first, but after two weeks I've decided I LOVE them. And they were relatively cheap! End of plug.)

Even though they were relatively cheap, because I have a crazy strong prescription, they were still $70. Not a whole ton, but not chump change. Because they are new, I am still very conscious of what they cost. I am being incredibly careful with them. I take them off with both hands and rest them on my nightstand gently. When I wash my face and set them on the sink, it's like I can see a big flashing $70!!! over top of them, and I am very careful not to elbow them onto the floor.

Now, I've worn glasses my whole life, and I know that before long, despite the fact that I need glasses to see and function in this world, I will forget. I'll toss them on the nightstand one-handed. I'll drop them onto the floor. I'll sleep on them. They will start to get scratched and bent. They will start to depreciate in value and usefulness.

They will start to depreciate, because as their newness wears off and life takes over, I will forget how much I initially valued them.

As I set my glasses on my dresser to change my shirt this morning, a thought hit my noggin.

People don't depreciate.

Or at least, they shouldn't.

But the tricky thing is, when I'm being honest with myself, I know that sometimes I act like they do. I catch myself forgetting the value, the preciousness, of the people I hold nearest and dearest to my heart.

Life intervenes. We get careless. We scratch and bend each other. Our relationship suffers wear and tear. And the more wear and tear our relationship suffers, the more all we can see is the blemishes, and the less it seems to matter if we add a few more. We'll bounce back, I think. I'll call her tomorrow, I think. He hurts my feelings too, I reason.

(Image credit: sxc.hu user cobrasoft)

The people I love are not like eyewear, or office furniture. Their value in my life cannot be tabulated on an Excel spreadsheet. They are rare and precious souls, with intrinsic value and possibility inside of them. And no matter how many blemishes and scars they may have, they are no less valuable, no less lovely, no less worthy. In fact, when I really stop and think about it, I adore the scars that make my imperfect loved ones who they are. I celebrate the victories and the pains those scars bear witness to.

My glasses will depreciate over time (at least partly) because I will become careless with them. I will see their blemishes instead of their beauty, and as a result, I will make more blemishes.

Lord, please don't let me do that with the people I love best of all. My husband, my family, my children, my friends.

I find it interesting that the opposite of "depreciate" is "appreciate." Instead of forgetting the value of these people and relationships, let me seek to appreciate them. To seek their beauty, to remark on it, and in turn, to help polish them until they shine even brighter.