We just wanted to get the boys room cleaned. The mess had been building for weeks. It’s the type of mess you shut the door to and try to ignore; the type of mess that no quick pick up will put to right. A weekend to tackle his room. It would include a fresh coat of paint and full spring cleaning of all toys, clothes etc… as well as completing several tasks left over from the original installation of boy to room.
In I went and I made it worse before it got better. In the process I pulled out an old white dresser. Years ago his dad had crafted him a heirloom bed and I had painted it a boy red, stadium red and then antiqued it to look like leather. The white dresser was a leftover from baby days and it had seen three of them. It’s time had come to join the ranks of furniture for our growing boy.
In two days time that stadium red finally covered the white. High humidity and unseasonable heat meant long dry times. It’s morning and I wake to a dry base. It’s a freakishly warm November day and I’m sweating as I sit on the dirty garage floor. My nearest neighbor the kitchen garbage that didn’t make it to the curb. I’m working diligently to transform the piece, my mind wanders through images of our growing boy playing near it, his underwear being stacked neatly in its drawer and the nicks, dings and wear it has ahead of it. When reaching stopping points for dry time I sit on the floor admiring and imagining while inhaling scents from my unwelcome neighbor.
I’m finishing up after about an hour of work. My brushes have been cleaned, rags folded and yet I still find myself sitting indian style on the garage floor in the presence of my newest creation. It looks exactly the way I want it. I’m just enjoying being amidst its newness and beauty, I sit to admire my work and I can’t help but think, “It is beautiful” and as I sit there my heart explodes as a still, small whisper breezes through my mind,
There is no denying where that whisper originates. It leaves me breathless with emotion, overwhelmed, speechless at this God…
who began a good work in me and His son came and lived here so the trinity could forever dwell and soak in the beauty and pain of His creation.
They are here amongst my sin and my selfishness and they sit and soak in the joy and whisper things like,
This kind of savior, what a blessing, and to know His love for me.
COUNTING BREATHLESS, EMOTION FILLED MOMENTS….
Boy’s laughter coming from the guest bedroom
Catching up with long time friends through quiet talks deep into the night
House bursting at the seams with people and joyful noise
Dirty floors as living proof loved feet have been here
Oreo-Newman O’s blindfold taste test
A passionate hunt for Nativities
Assembly line Christmas Card making with my girlies
Baking my Mama Gee’s banana bread
$6 Old Navy Polar fleece for when Florida feels like a Polar Ice Cap
An entire day at home in our P.J.s
The man and I taking turns reading aloud Dicken’s A Christmas Carol