Do you ever find yourself cleaning up another person's mess? Jeff and I spent much of Sunday afternoon, paint brushes in hand, doing exactly that.
It’s hard not to bitch and moan about it, when you’re in the heat of it. When you’re spending your blessed Sunday afternoon, repeating a job that has already been done. I really think it’s only human to find fault with the situation.
I’ve been thinking about it this morning, looking at the drawers that clearly don’t match, and wondering what in the hell the guy was thinking when he put them in? Did he plan to paint them? Was he just being lazy? Perhaps he was simply color blind.
Whatever the reason, as I was about to load up the old primer bucket and get to work I was trying to think if there is a way to find honor in it; trying to come up with some way to change my attitude about it.
My time and energy going into this project certainly are not a blessing to the old owner, he’s long gone and certainly never thinks for a moment about the jobs he left undone. So, where should I set my mind, as I set about cleaning up his messes?
Only one thing came to mind. How many messes does my Jesus, have to clean up for me? And, how many times have I moved on from the offense, never to look back, while he’s back there loading up the proverbial primer bucket? Touche'.
Believe it or not, my sister-in-law encountered a color-blind painter when they built their new house. He couldn't tell the difference between a red paint and a brown stain. He wound up using the red paint to touch up their wooden staircase. Yikes!
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