Women
Though my husband, John, supports me in most things, he cringes-practically cries-when I'm overtaken by the Do-It-Myself urge to improve our home.
Now, I know I'm taking Proverbs 14:1 out of context, but when it comes to me and home improvements, the latter part is quite applicable:
"The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down."
Painting, in particular, raises concern. The sight of me holding a paintbrush has my husband running for cover.
Oh, but how paint enthralls me-the wonders wrought by a fresh coat! Transform your dining room from drab to delightful, give a cracker box room the essence of space, create a guest bathroom that's so warm and cozy, your friends won't want to leave!
As for smudgy, scuffed up, crayon-marked walls...nothing covers 'em up like a good gallon or two of semi-gloss, right?
Well, maybe.
I like to paint, but the first thing I've learned about any painting project is this: it's always a bigger job than I think it will be.
When I stagger from the freshly painted room, days later, I resemble one of those coveted speckled balls (they were worth a nickel) from the old gumball machines. My hair, highlighted by flecks of whatever color I'm using, probably won't start a fashion trend among my crowd. Blue painter's tape trails from my shoe, still gooey from where I backed up and stepped in the paint tray.
This is the part where I'm reminded of the second thing I learn from every painting job:
I can't paint.
Always, I end up calling Ocimar or Hilton, two excellent, professional painters-and wonderful Christian men-who paint for a lot of my friends, family and neighbors.
"Please come fix my project."
"Hmmmm," they say in their beautiful, South American accents, eyes traveling the four corners of my room. "Well, we see the problem, Miss Donna. You used ceiling paint on the walls."
Oh.
Sometimes ambition clouds my common sense.
I call my last project "Older Son's Bedroom." J.R., a huge fan of University of Tennessee football, wanted a room that reflected his passion. What better way than walls that match the school colors? In this case, orange and white. That's right, orange. J.R. wanted two walls orange, two walls white.
"No problem," said I, the mom-of-all-trades. "I can handle that."
Surprisingly, the orange wasn't that hard to work with. The white was a disaster, much to my confusion. I mean, how hard can it be to paint white-over-white? For me, it was plenty hard. I applied coat after coat and still, the dingy, dirty, grayish-white walls I was trying to cover fought me tooth and nail.
It reminded me of how people try to cover up their secrets, their pain, their sins. And how no amount of paint will fully hide the truth, at least not forever.
Just as light hits the painted wall from a certain angle, revealing the faded, mismatched or dirty undercoat, so will truth make itself known.
We only have to watch the news to see that the world is not amiss of wolves in sheep clothing, of roses filled with thorns, of calm, bright waters that are dark, frigid and murky beneath the surface. I have a friend, an attorney involved with child advocacy, who tells me of abuse in his community-of how some of the worst cases take place within the most beautiful homes. Heinous acts hidden by manicured estates, fine cars and designer clothes.
Praise God, the majority of people aren't slapping paint over truly sinister hearts. Some people never try to hide anything, except maybe a few extra pounds, accomplished with the good 'ol, must-have black pants and blazer. But...some people are always trying to keep a truth under wraps.
It could be the closet smoker, always armed with breath mints and cologne. Perhaps it's the couple that kisses in public, but fights bitterly behind closed doors. It might be the ever-cheerful neighbor-the one who cries herself to sleep because her husband is anywhere but home. Possibly, it's the coach who can't get through practice without a nip from the vodka hidden in his trunk. Maybe it's the person whose days are piled with activity-piled so high that they don't allow themselves time to think about what's missing from their lives, or issues they need to deal with.
Unhappiness...that's the secret a lot of people try to shield. Some are pretty good at hiding it from the world, but the truth is-if you don't deal with it, the world will find out.
Even those 'ol black pants are helpful for just so long-if the pounds keep adding up, even the "fat pants" will split wide open. So it is with secret problems that don't get solved.
Nobody, however, escapes the eyes of God.
"Nothing in all creation is hidden from God's sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account." Hebrew 4:13.
(Wow, depending on what you've got to hide-that could be an unsettling thought!)
Whenever I botch up one of my (no, all of my) paint jobs, it's great to know that Ocimar and Hilton can help me resolve the mess. It's even better to know that the Lord can help me whenever I botch up my life.
Hebrews 4: 14-16 goes on to assure us:
"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way. Just as we are-yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."
While I know God is always there to help us right our mistakes-and take steps to remedy the unhappiness in our lives-we'll spare ourselves a lot of trouble if we learn what got us unhappy in the first place. Jotted in my Bible are these words, spoken by one of my Bible study leaders:
God's best soldiers are those who are aware of their own weaknesses.
Last spring, my youngest son, Daniel, wanted his bedroom painted. He chose the color himself.
Sonic Blaster Blue.
"No problem," I told him. "I can handle that."
And I did-by picking up the phone instead of a paintbrush.
"Hello...Ocimar...Hilton...I need a bedroom painted..."
(c) Donna G. Morton 2005
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Everything I read of yours leaves me with a smile on my face, and inspiration in my heart. And I learn something new about you each time ... after almost 30 years!!
Donna, I enjoyed the humor and then was blessed with the inspirational message. Well written! Blessings, Rita
This was awesome, Donna. You should try to publish it somewhere. God bless you.
i enjoyed this very much. thanks to faithwriter, i can read piece like this :-)
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