Paint
Paint. I've always loved the smell. It is so simple, yet one coat can change everything. One stroke of paint can alter any surface and transform its appearance. Any color on anything and there lies an opportunity to create. Paint covers the old and marks the forthcoming of better things. More than anything else, paint initiates change.
This past week we decided to paint our ordinary brick home white. In truth, we lovingly tossed around the "painting the whole house white" idea for a few months. Then when some handy work was needed my uncle Craig started caulking with bright white and just like that we were committed. Like it or not, there was no turning back.
Before its paint job, I loved our simple brick house. It is the home that I have spent most of my life in and marks many years well lived. Now, thanks to my industrious and talented uncle laboring for many hours, my home has been sanded, caulked, stripped, and undergone a complete transformation. We all had a hunch that it would look nice, but now that the renovation is nearing completion, it truly is more beautiful than I could have dreamed. As I sit here watching the hustle and bustle of the final touches, I can't help but feel as though our freshly painted home represents a physical reality of a greater spiritual truth.
When you drive up our neighborhood street, our lovely white home seems to shine like a beacon. It is as if God let our physical dwelling be transformed to represent a clean, fresh beginning. One as white as snow. A change that required the pain of letting go paired with the eager anticipation of what was to come.
Sometimes in life we are content with how things are-- the "aged brick house" if you will. Then God invites us to let Him paint our hearts with His truth. He begs of us to surrender so that we too may experience divine transformation.
I don't mean to over-spiritualize something as simple as paint. I guess I have just started to realize more than ever that this world is not my home, thus I am beginning to see spiritual truth in very ordinary things. That is the gift of the gospel -- God can quite literally use anything to redirect us back to Himself.
So now I ask, what "house" in your life is God nudging you to let Him transform? What needs new life? What if, perhaps, the very thing that you are clinging to out of fear is what God intends to use to change your world and fill it with hope?
This past week we decided to paint our ordinary brick home white. In truth, we lovingly tossed around the "painting the whole house white" idea for a few months. Then when some handy work was needed my uncle Craig started caulking with bright white and just like that we were committed. Like it or not, there was no turning back.
Before its paint job, I loved our simple brick house. It is the home that I have spent most of my life in and marks many years well lived. Now, thanks to my industrious and talented uncle laboring for many hours, my home has been sanded, caulked, stripped, and undergone a complete transformation. We all had a hunch that it would look nice, but now that the renovation is nearing completion, it truly is more beautiful than I could have dreamed. As I sit here watching the hustle and bustle of the final touches, I can't help but feel as though our freshly painted home represents a physical reality of a greater spiritual truth.
When you drive up our neighborhood street, our lovely white home seems to shine like a beacon. It is as if God let our physical dwelling be transformed to represent a clean, fresh beginning. One as white as snow. A change that required the pain of letting go paired with the eager anticipation of what was to come.
Sometimes in life we are content with how things are-- the "aged brick house" if you will. Then God invites us to let Him paint our hearts with His truth. He begs of us to surrender so that we too may experience divine transformation.
I don't mean to over-spiritualize something as simple as paint. I guess I have just started to realize more than ever that this world is not my home, thus I am beginning to see spiritual truth in very ordinary things. That is the gift of the gospel -- God can quite literally use anything to redirect us back to Himself.
So now I ask, what "house" in your life is God nudging you to let Him transform? What needs new life? What if, perhaps, the very thing that you are clinging to out of fear is what God intends to use to change your world and fill it with hope?
