Isn’t there something intriguing about the prohibited rooms you can’t enter? Walking through the hospitals or government offices, we often see the restricted access signs keeping the general public out. To workers who have been behind the doors, the few secrets that lie within are usually not life-defining. In our home in Chesterfield, we had three attic spaces. Three. As in a separate attic space for each of the piggies, blind mice, bears, or stooges. We had so many options that I never even used one of the attic spaces. It wasn’t until I had lived in the home for five years that I sorted through its stored boxes. Expecting to find something to take to PBS’s Antique Roadshow, I opened every box and sifted through retro clothes from the 90s, plastic beads from a forgotten Mardi Gras parade, puzzle pieces to some picture with a clock, and paint. Paint with labels you couldn’t read, paint with labels you didn’t want to touch, and paint that looked somewhat useful.
Potential paint—ever the bane of our existence. In the right hands and with the right amount of attention, paint can transform space and create depth to our lives. Paint can cover the errors of life and a fresh coat can even revive old memories. As I opened a paint can, the paint’s oils and colors had clearly separated. Climbing back down the stairs, I carried the paint can to the driveway, sat down in the shade. Hunching over the can and stirring the oils, a new purpose emerged. Life exhaled out of the old can. There was a new purpose for the paint.
It’s amazing what happens when you stir things up. Those old molecules that used to fit together and flow together now are united again ready to be used. Revival—of paint and of person. We’re beginning our revival. Come, get stirred up for the Lord and allow Him to stir you and use you His purpose.