Good thing you didn't drop by our house for a visit last month. Or the previous month. Or the month before that. The place has been a wreck—literally.
We managed to drag out the installation of a new bathroom from March until mid-July. And rather than enjoy it, we immediately (as in the very same day the toilet and faucets were finally connected) emptied our master bedroom to begin a major overhaul there as well.
The joints where the ceiling meets the walls were cracked. So we had to rip out most of the paper seams, replace them, and then mud and sand the whole area. Working on the skylight was a particular joy (it’s a 14 foot-tall cathedral ceiling, so that meant many hours on a scaffold).
Next, it was time to paint. And did I mention we decided to replace plastic floor trim and cheaper lauan door trim with real oak? In tearing off some of the old trim, I chuckled at the discovery of two love notes I’d written to my wife on the back of the boards. “Jon loves Diana” declared one of them in a red ink that was hardly faded even after 30 years. Which reminds me that in previous remodeling projects, I’ve been known to paint messages to her right on the walls.
When it was time to roll up the old carpet I discovered another memory on the plywood floor: a distinctive splotch of dried blood—mine. Three decades ago, in the process of cutting a small piece of drywall to screw into the ceiling, I ended up slicing off the very tip of my thumb. Ouch. What a memory.
Love notes. Messages. Memories. There are stories on our walls—quite literally. Those careful enough to look will likely find them at some future date.
The same is true with the walls of our souls. They, too, bear messages, notes, and memories. The question is, what do they say about us? About our faith? About the way we have loved God and others?
When we are dead and gone, what will people encounter when they read the stories on the walls? We’re writing them now, you know.
- A day at a time.
- A deed at a time.
Stories.
What will yours say about you?