I am not an "artiste". Go ahead, pronounce it the french way....it's fun. But I have artistic tendencies that beg to be let out to play quite often. I find joy in painting. No, now stop thinking Michelangelo and think.....Tim the Toolman Taylor. I know. Quite the picture. Me with my "tools" of the trade. Dressed in my best work clothes. Shaking paint cans. Painting layer after layer. Sanding. Redoing. Letting it sit. Coming back to it. Seeing a new possibility. All on furniture.
I love giving new life. It makes me feel inspired. Filled up. Overflowing. It is an outward expression of what I feel He has done for me. Not just covered over, but made beautiful. Not thrown out, but made more valuable.
I am in a very precarious spot these days. I totter. But I don't tumble. Just like a Weeble. I wobble, but I don't fall down. Because I am held. And not only held, but cherished. And made beautiful. And useful. And like I do with the furniture, He makes my dings and damage look....inspiring....hopeful.....a message to those coming behind that it's never too late and the damage is never permanently ugly.
blessings.
I love giving new life. It makes me feel inspired. Filled up. Overflowing. It is an outward expression of what I feel He has done for me. Not just covered over, but made beautiful. Not thrown out, but made more valuable.
I am in a very precarious spot these days. I totter. But I don't tumble. Just like a Weeble. I wobble, but I don't fall down. Because I am held. And not only held, but cherished. And made beautiful. And useful. And like I do with the furniture, He makes my dings and damage look....inspiring....hopeful.....a message to those coming behind that it's never too late and the damage is never permanently ugly.
blessings.
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