June 26, 2024 It was structurally sound, but it had surface rust on parts of it, and the hand grips were blackened with grime. It was exactly the walker I wanted. Why did I want a rusty, dirty walker? Because I wanted something I could paint, and I knew there was a good chance I’d mess up the paint job. I didn’t want to ruin a walker that was in perfect or even good condition. I’m awful at painting, especially spray painting. I can think of exactly two projects I’ve previously tried to spray paint, and both projects ended with me frustrated by drip marks my sub-par painting skills left on inside corners. Both times, I walked away angry. With both of those projects, I eventually removed all the paint I had applied and asked someone else – someone good with a spray can – to paint the projects for me. I’ve been trying to get better at accepting imperfections and failures. With that in mind, I brought home the rusty walker, purchased a beautiful purple paint, did some cleaning, sanding and prep work, and I started painting. While I made reasonable efforts to fix my mistakes, and there were many, I also tried to be ok with imperfections – including drip marks on inside corners. I didn’t get any better at avoiding those. Each time I walk past that now-purple walker, I notice the imperfections. Despite them, I love the purple walker. I keep thinking about how it started – rusty, damaged and unwanted. Is it perfect now? Absolutely not. I love it anyway, and I’m glad I worked to improve it. While I’ll never be able to fully understand God, I think he sees me the same way. With his grace and his help, I keep trying to get rid of some of my rust and grime – my sinfulness and the lesser parts of my personality. I still have plenty of imperfections and flaws (“plenty” is probably an understatement), but I’m confident God loves me – loves all of us – despite the imperfections and takes joy in every improvement he’s helped make. We’re exactly what he wanted. |
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