I took a picture of this wall Sunday afternoon. . .
Because now it looks like this:
And hopefully by the end of the week I'll have to know how to arrange my crosses back on the wall.
That's right, I'm PAINTING :)
I spent all Sunday afternoon taping. . .this room took up an ENTIRE roll of painter's tape. Yes, I have to use tape. . .I am *terrible* at cutting in. Sigh.
I was supposed to start yesterday but then someone called to sub. . .and it was 5th grade (my favorite). . .at my kid's school. . .so the job went on hold.
I got up at 5:30 this morning and got to work!
Days like today I really miss my kids' Papa John. He was my stepfather, the closest person I have ever met who embodies Christ's servant spirit.
His ministry was painting. You couldn't even mention painting without him showing up the next day in his paintclothes, with all of his gear, ready to work. One time he painted a bedroom for a friend's wife who was dying. I think she maybe had three weeks left to live. He spent two days doing it and then his friend came to him and John asked if his wife liked her room. The friend thanked him profusely for doing it but, alas, she didn't like the color. THE NEXT DAY John was over, pouring over other choices with the woman, to find something she would like. And yes, it was done by the end of the week. That is just who he was. . .always pleasing, always serving. He helped me paint several times. . .sometimes he'd come over and get started on his own, sometimes we'd do it together -- those were just special, special times. We'd talk and just spend the time together. He never stopped until the job was done, and done to his satisfaction. "Don't work yourself to death" we'd say. . ."take a break, take a day off" and his reply always was. . ."not until the job is done." So. . .it's not fair to say that I don't miss the help (who wouldn't?) but I miss the companionship, the talking, the wisdom he would utter. And yes, then everytime you'd walk into the room, you'd see a "John job" and think of him. Of his servant's heart. Of his work ethic. Of his love.
So. . .with that eulogy, (and an 8 a.m. meeting at school finished) my break is over -- back to trimming!!!
Because now it looks like this:
And hopefully by the end of the week I'll have to know how to arrange my crosses back on the wall.That's right, I'm PAINTING :)
I spent all Sunday afternoon taping. . .this room took up an ENTIRE roll of painter's tape. Yes, I have to use tape. . .I am *terrible* at cutting in. Sigh.I was supposed to start yesterday but then someone called to sub. . .and it was 5th grade (my favorite). . .at my kid's school. . .so the job went on hold.
I got up at 5:30 this morning and got to work!
Days like today I really miss my kids' Papa John. He was my stepfather, the closest person I have ever met who embodies Christ's servant spirit.
His ministry was painting. You couldn't even mention painting without him showing up the next day in his paintclothes, with all of his gear, ready to work. One time he painted a bedroom for a friend's wife who was dying. I think she maybe had three weeks left to live. He spent two days doing it and then his friend came to him and John asked if his wife liked her room. The friend thanked him profusely for doing it but, alas, she didn't like the color. THE NEXT DAY John was over, pouring over other choices with the woman, to find something she would like. And yes, it was done by the end of the week. That is just who he was. . .always pleasing, always serving. He helped me paint several times. . .sometimes he'd come over and get started on his own, sometimes we'd do it together -- those were just special, special times. We'd talk and just spend the time together. He never stopped until the job was done, and done to his satisfaction. "Don't work yourself to death" we'd say. . ."take a break, take a day off" and his reply always was. . ."not until the job is done." So. . .it's not fair to say that I don't miss the help (who wouldn't?) but I miss the companionship, the talking, the wisdom he would utter. And yes, then everytime you'd walk into the room, you'd see a "John job" and think of him. Of his servant's heart. Of his work ethic. Of his love.So. . .with that eulogy, (and an 8 a.m. meeting at school finished) my break is over -- back to trimming!!!
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