This is the floor that doesn't end
It just goes on and on my friend
Some blogger started tiling it not knowing what it was
And she'll continue tiling it forever just because...
This is the floor that doesn't end...
That's the song I sang for the past several weeks as we laid the tile for our incredible ever-expanding kitchen. It's the reason that I've been so scarce in Blogville. This is the floor that doesn't end...
And then, there are the cabinets that I decided to sand and paint and sand and paint and sand and paint and...
OK. You get the point.
Honestly, I have never been so tired in my life. The husband is exhausted too. Here's the text he sent me... from the next room... the night we set the very last tile in mortar.
We're sticking with it, though, right to the very end. The reason for that is very simple. The minute we yanked up the first piece of old floor, we were committed to the project. There is no turning back, no matter what kind of a mess we make in the process. We have a vision for the final product.
I've been thinking about that word commitment ever since Sharon@ Sharon Sharing God chose it for our Fan the Flame Friday word last week. What does it mean, she asked us, to commit something to God?
I can't remember what I said.
I'm sure it was brilliant.
What I do recall saying in jest was that right now I'm completely committed to my kitchen.
As I sat in the middle of the floor a few hours later crying over the Great Tile Disaster, I decided what I really wanted to say. It's been a full week in coming, but this morning, I'm going to say it.
Maybe my problem isn't nearly as much about my commitment to God.
Maybe my biggest problem is that I forget about God's commitment to me.
You don't hear that expression very much these days, but when I was growing up, folks used it to describe something so utterly hopeless that the Creator Himself had tossed up holy hands and walked away.
Can I be honest? Sometimes, I feel like Katrina the kitchen. Sometimes, I feel as if the floor has been ripped out from under me, the doors to every compartment have been yanked off, and every corner of my life is one, big, God- forsaken mess. In my weakest moments, I can be tempted by You-Know-Who to believe that my God has tossed up holy hands and walked away.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
The truth of it is that it's in the messiest moments of my life that God is proving His commitment to me.
Do you know how I know? I know because He has revealed himself through his Word as a master carpenter, and no carpenter committed to his work would ever slap on a coat of paint or throw a rug over a glaring error.
Nope. He will do whatever it takes to get rid of it, even if it means getting down on the knees and sawing through solid rock.
Can anyone relate?
That's because He is not only a master carpenter, but He is a God with a clear-eyed vision of the end from the beginning. From the moment he pulled up the first floor board, He was committed to the project that he has named Debbie. Not only am I fearfully and wonderfully made, but I'm being fearfully and wonderfully remade into the very image of God., and He who began a good work in (me) will be faithful to complete it unto the day of Christ Jesus. (Philippians 1:6)
So this week, I have been singing a new song. It's the one that goes something like this:
He's still working on me
To make me what I ought to be
It took him just a week to make the moon and the stars
The sun and the earth
And Jupiter and Mars
How lovely and patient He must be...
He's still working on me.
Comments off for Sunday
Comments off for Sunday