Good thing, because it took six coats of paint (six!) to cover a brown wall in my kitchen.
Please don’t ever paint walls brown. You will live to regret it, six times over.
Brown tree trunks are nice. Brown dirt is nice. Brown chocolate is the nicest of all.
But brown on a kitchen wall is not nice.
Dark and cozy, but not nice.
Buttercups and Daisies are cheery and nice. Sunshine is the best cheery of all.
But we don’t have any of those…everything outside here is dead and brown. It’s that kind of winter.
I’d like to paint every room in my house a cheerful yellow. But the six coats of paint required to cover the brown frightens me off. And also, the family is rebelling.
“Claude Monet did that,” I tell my kids for the hundredth time, showing them internet photos of Monet’s happy yellow kitchen and cheery farmhouse. “You could grow up to be a famous impressionist painter if you ate your oatmeal in a cheerful yellow room.”
“Please no, Mom.” they groan.
I won’t tell you what else they said.
But it wasn’t cheerful.
I did have help though, as I said. Somehow, between coats 5 and 6, Dog took a leisurely stroll through the paint tray that I left on the floor. He then ambled all through the living room. Thank God it's not carpeted.
So, here we come to the point of my ramblings. It took me all day to cover up my small brown wall with a clean, joyful color. It’s a little wall. An accent wall. Maybe only 12 feet by 9 feet.
ALL DAY. And it was hard work. I was so tired that while making spaghetti for the crowd, I burned myself three times, the pasta welded together like a brick, and I cried.
So much work and exhaustion. During all this, in the dead, brown world of Minnesota winter,
God made it snow.
In ten minutes, the entire neighborhood, and most of Minnesota, was whitewashed a perfect, pure and glittering white. Ten minutes. What irony.
I try and I try to do my bit…make my corner a little bit brighter and better. To find the love, joy and peace that I know is hiding there, among the cobwebs and brown paint. In my own way. With old paintbrushes and leftover paint which I have to check for lumps because it is really old paint. My way stinks.
I need to step back, let go of my own ideas, and just let God whitewash my world. It appears to be outta my league.
Snow. He covered the dead and brown world with crystal clean purity today… made it all a beautiful place.
And he didn’t even need my help.