“Marco” arrived as expected, bright and early and before he got started with the corrections he took a look at Audrey’s room to best gauge his work day. It was definitely a crazy-town time here as we unloaded the last of our hodge-podge mix from the trailer.
Emotionally I felt like burnt toast. I wanted so badly to have the burnt edges of this whole change to be able to be scraped off. Can’t I just grab the butter knife and coat the kitchen sink with my burnt black dust then just as easily rinse it down and out of sight with some warm water?
While working through these recent days with the goal of to putting it to story in this way, I see why I felt that way. I am grateful for having let myself feel the fatigue, it kept me real in asking for help and prayers along the way. The occasional tears which fell were a gift serving to further open my eyes to see and accept we are being removed from that which we love and appreciate (having Ryan with us daily, our dear friends, and our previous dwelling space etc.) but at the same time we are offered new goodness for God is moving my heart (Lord Jesus let it be our hearts) closer to His. With this being my reality I have grown to understand (and yes, accept) this as a unique and set time of isolation for our flock even though I felt prior to the move we were already in isolation because of the status of the world (ie pandemic). Even so, in this, our new time, He was, and is asking us to embrace it all. This time will hold different gifts for each of us and as for me, I will remain a believer and cling to His words of more jaw-dropping-goodness forever coming our way.
Speaking of goodness, the truck was unloaded without insult to the house or injury to our bodies! As “Marco” worked to swiftly paint Audrey’s room I wanted to be sure to thank him specifically before he left. He knew we were grateful for his time and effort put into our new home so in an attempt to honor him for being the one doing this work I had written a thank you card and included a cash gift. Remembering we already had a unique experience with this team of hired painters then became even more unique because “Marco” ended up accidentally tipping over the gallon of white semi-gloss trim paint, spilling it onto Audrey’s blue carpeted floor.
Yes, you read that correctly.
Even with drop cloths down the white semi-gloss paint sept into the blue (what the heck was up with the BLUE in this house!!!) carpet.
Not a great picture but you can see the contrast of mmm…blue and white! Ugh.
Goodness? Still, I must say somehow...yes.
Our experience seems beyond ridiculous. It is. Living these past few weeks has me remembering what it was like for me to live in Ecuador for 5 months in 1998. The friends I had there affectionately named me and all that happened around me, “The Kara Zone.” Thankfully I have lived 22 additional years since then and, believe it or not, as all this was unfolding (with the painters) I immediately knew exactly what I was to embrace (which doesn’t by default mean I immediately was able to, lol). You see, the last two dwelling spaces God ushered us into held more gifts than I can list or describe. Interestingly enough none of those gifts were in the making of the home, meaning what the home is literally made of (it’s aesthetics).
Two homes ago (from June of 2014 - December of 2015) we were in an old 1800's icehouse turned tiny house with one bedroom and one bathroom. (Yes, again, you’re reading that correctly.) The space was wonderfully fine to live in even as a family of five. This dwelling space was the opportunity brought to us but had I been the Kara of my early 20’s I would have struggled through every day because it wasn’t just right in every way (it was barely right in any way!). There were areas where plaster was peeling off the wall, the windows were propped open with wood (watch out when they fall!), the color scheme wouldn't have been my choice, having only ONE BEDROOM wouldn't have been my choice...but the truth is, it was our choice.
It wasn’t our plan but it was our choice.
Then there was the farm property we just left. It was built in 1817 and I feel it safe to say when we arrived it had last been cleaned in 1817. Just kidding. Kinda. The carpet in particular was a thorn in my side because it was all the previous dwellers (and their pets) leftover smells, stains and yuck. Since I appreciate a clean and tidy home I did what I could to start with it being clean, but no matter how many times I worked at it, it still just wasn’t and ya know what, I was okay. We were okay. We still let that house become a home. We welcomed friends and family and we did the best with what we had. So when “Marco” spilled WHITE paint on the BLUE carpet I went right back to remembering what it felt like to have stained carpet in the farmhouse.
Alas Karah, you were fine there, you will be fine here.
“Marco” was expecting a lashing from us because who extends grace in a situation like this?!? Accidents happen, I shook my head and chuckled as I explained to Audrey what happened, as she too has learned to not let “stuff” rule our hearts or minds and after all, this room was being painted for *free. I am grateful knowing as a flock we have embraced (mostly) living in such a way that our “stuff” (good or bad) doesn’t interfere with our living in and with peace. In these situations we will honor people and extend love and grace.
While I was disappointed by our overall experience I now, all day everyday, get to smile with genuine happiness as I look around and see what wasn’t a perfect paint job, remembering perfection is reserved for, well... not my days or our family!
*and…“Marco” actually was not aware of it being a gifted part of his time. Sigh! More communication happened and hopefully he was honored by the owner because “Marco” certainliy knew we were not being deceitful.
Before…
After, but don’t look too close because oooooh yeah, imperfection is all over :-)