Hardware stores like Lowes are about the most boring places in the world and I have spent more time than I would have ever imagined in Lowes since the “remodeling” project began. I am not sure why Joe wants me to tag along because I doubt the sighs and frowns and fidgeting are part of his fun in going but he does.
I have to say I have learned a lot about things in the last few months. I have added words like ground fault circuit interrupters and hardy board to my vocabulary. I know about grout and bull nose tiles….funny story…we were at Lowes and Joe was looking at tile to do the kitchen backsplash and trying to impress him I said “don’t you need the moosehead tile?” Ok, so that’s close to bull nose. Animal and body part. He cracked up on that one. Anway, on one of my many many trips to Lowes to occupy my mind I began to think about “life” as I wandered the hardware store.
One of the aisles I wandered down had every kind of nut and bolt and washer and screw imaginable. Who knew there were so many types of screws…Wood screws, sheetrock screws, regular screws, flathead screws, concrete screws and it got me thinking about how every one of us are like those screws…made for a specific task here on earth. I’ve talked about spiritual gifts before and I do believe that God equips us with the personality, the knowledge and the creativity to be exactly what we need to be to fit into the “plan”. So if we go against the type of screw we are, it may work, but its not gonna do the job nearly as well as if we are the screw we were made to be. A wood screw may work in a piece of sheetrock, but it won’t do nearly as good as t he sheetrock screw, the one made for that task.
Next, I wandered down the paint aisle . In addition to more paint colors than I could ever imagine, there were types of paint from flat to glossy to semi glossy and then the accessories…rollers and brushes and tape and drop cloths. I helped to paint during the remodeling process and I dreaded it. The thought of all the taping and prep work was overwhelming. But once I got to the actual painting it was very therapeutic. With every roll of the roller, brush stroke of the brush, the dirty and scratched walls were transformed into a shiny new clean surface, unmarred and unscarred. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our lives wer e like the walls and all it took to clean them up was a coat of paint so the dirty didn’t show anymore. And then I realized that is exactly what Christ did for us. He didn’t use paint..he didn’t need drop cloths and brushes and clean up rags. He used something much more valuable that you can’t buy at Lowes…his blood. He covered our indiscretions, our sin, our greed when he died on the cross.
Next was an aisle with every kind of organizer imaginable from crates to buckets to shelving to hooks. A place for everything and everything in its place. What an appealing thought to have ourl ives organized and categorized so that the important things don’t get lost in the shuffle. If my life were an organized shelf it would have lots of boxes. The first box would be the reminders that connect me to the people I love the most. My quilts my mom made with the names and birthdates of all our family, the photo albums, the first Bible I ever owned, dirty and worn in which “to LeeAnn from Daddy “ is written, the homemade cards the boys made me for mothers day long ago. Right up front is where that box would be so they are always on my mind.
Right next to that I’d have my box of “if only’s”. If only I had the talent, if only I had the money, if only I had the right credentials, if only I were thinner, if only I ….One of these days I’ll take something out of that box and say if only I made the effort instead of letting something hold me back.
Then there’s the box of regrets. This box is full of mistakes I’ve made that I don’t ever want to forget and repeat. Like not calling a friend who lost her son because it was too painful to see her grief, or putting off lunch with a friend and then one day it was too late because she was killed, the store clerk who overcharged me that I berated because I had had a bad day, the letter I didn’t write because I didn’t know what to say, the words I didn’t say because my pride wouldn’t let me.
Then there’s the someday when I have time box, my tried and failed box, and then there is my grateful box. The grateful box in which my Bible would rest representing my faith and the irrevocable gift of grace I have been given. My family is in this box, the people who love and would help me in any way, my friends, ones who inspire me and love me and let me be myself, & my Church family is in this box. Along with all the other things for which I am grateful, especially Joe.
And as I stroll down the clean up aisle with every kind of cleaner, brush, mop, broom imaginable, I make a vow to clean up my life in the areas where cobwebs have gathered. Time alone each day to meditate and reflect. Helping those in need. I need to mop up some of the messes I’ve made through my own selfishness and neglect and put the shine back on those relationships.
I have the tools I need. Its up to me to use them.
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