Last week, I had white paint on my arm and a family friend that I don’t see very often asked, “Are you still painting?” Yes, last week it was a white shelf for our basement. This week it was our front door.
I paint when the boys nap or in the evening when they are asleep. I find these ‘down times’ are the hardest times to negotiate without my mom’s presence. The memories and sense of loss come often and quickly these last weeks.
I am still in the boat on the ocean of grief. The waves have been still and the sun on my face, but on the horizon I sense a storm brewing. One year ago was when I first started noticing mom wasn’t well. Last June, we were living with mom and dad as we renovated our house. They went to VCity to help my sister. They had a night away at The Hill spa, but all was not well with mom. She thought she had a bladder infection, but how could we know the path that we were heading down…
I keep moving.
Trying to make sense of a senseless time.
Holding tight to my faith.
One step at a time.
When we lived in Vtown, we had a great intentional friend and neighbour who was very present in our daily lives. Here she is:
Lizzie in her backyard with the boys.
She has the most beautiful blue door. It is stunning with a handmade stained glass window:
I decided our front door needed a pick me up colour. Blue it is!
Before I painted the door I drew hearts for our family and every visitor that comes through the ‘threshold’ wishing us all the fruit of God’s spirit: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control.
I pray that all these qualities roll over and through each of us this day no matter the colour of our door.
One thought on “Be Painting the Door Blue”
Great post and I can still hear some of your sorrow. The blue door is very pretty. I am a bit prejudiced because my wife painted our door the same color. Lord bless you and your family.