Friendship and Table Building

Once upon a time there were two little boys.  Each little boy was born into a family with two older sisters.  The boys wouldn't meet each other until they were teenagers.  But when they met they became the best of friends.  They claimed each other as the brother neither one had.

The boys could be found doing all kinds of macho stuff together.  

Fishing.

Camping.

Four wheeling.

Things they never told their moms that they did.

They grew into men and served as each other's best man on their wedding days.  One is now a father to (almost) three precious babies.  One is now a father to a neurotic dog.  They are still the best of friends.

The kind of friends who text each other unsavory pictures.  The kind of friends who pick up right where they left off even if it's been months since they've seen each other.  The kind of friends who love each other deeply even if that doesn't sound manly.

Meet Travis and Jamie.

Travis is my baby brother.  And Jamie is the brother Travis never had.  They are both fantastic men and I'm so proud of them.

Back in March my sister and I visited Travis and Nell in Atlanta.  While we were there I admired their dinning room table.  Travis offered to build one for me.  Said he'd build it when he and Nell came for a visit this summer.  I said I'd love that.

Fast forward to May.  I hit up Pintrest pretty hard and create a board called "Things for Travis to Build".  Travis hits up Jamie for help in building my table.

Fast forward to June.  Travis and Nell come home to visit.  One day, Travis and I leave my kids with Tiana and Nell and make a run to Home Depot.  Even tho I have 0 building skills I love this store.  I love wandering the aisles imaging what could become of the boards, the doors, the windows, the sinks, the paint, the light fixtures.  So many possibilities.

Travis teaches me how to eye a board to see if it's straight.  We eye boards and lay them out on the floor.  Travis sends Jamie exactly one million texts.  We find screws, wood glue, stain.  I learn that there is a part of a table called 'the apron'.  Travis does math to keep track of how much I am spending.  And then I bring all the wood home and pile it in my garage.

I paint the pieces for the apron red because that is what I think I want.  Travis doesn't agree and uses the red pieces for the underside of the table.

I get texts on the progress of the table.  All the wood has moved to Jamie's house and construction is happening.

And then, Jamie tries it out.

Yup, that'll work.

Larry loads it up and brings it home for me.  We eat our first meal on our almost finished table.  

The table legs and apron need painted.  And I want "new" chairs.   What I actually want is old mismatched chairs that I'll paint.  So my mom and I go to The Lucky Dog thrift store in New Holland.  If you have several hours and no kids to bring along this is a super fun place to spend the afternoon.  So.Much.Junk.

I really love it.

We found 5 chairs and a bench which is exactly what I wanted.  I also found a patio chair, a soup pot, and a dress.  I said at the beginning of the year that I wasn't going to buy myself any clothes this year.  I have no justification for this purchase except that it was just so cute I couldn't pass it up.

Ahem.  Back to my chairs.

This is what they looked like when I brought them home.  I wondered about the history of each.  How did they end up in the junk store?  Who all has sat on them?  What stories would they tell if they could talk?

I started painting.  With a really cute helper.

Pretty soon we were both covered in paint.  Turns out I can't do anything neatly.

I painted late one night.  As I painted someone joined me.

I wasn't impressed.  Not even a little.

Because of my two 'helpers' (and let's admit it, my glaring lack of neat skills) my chairs are far from perfect.  If you look closely you will see dried paint runs from the Four Year Old.  If you look closer you will see dog fur stuck in the paint from the Lab.  You don't even have to look all that closely at all to see spots missed by Me.

But you know what?

I love it that way.  My chairs are far from perfect.  But so are the people that sit on them.  We've all got stories to tell.  Some funny. Some sad.  Some utterly delightful.  Some that will make you want to put your fist thru a wall.  Some about redemption and healing.

As I painted I thought a lot about life.  About relationships.  About how beautiful things take effort.

I painted coat after coat on those chairs.  And the more time and effort I spent on them, the more I loved them.  Some of them were complicated.  There were rungs and spindles and beautifully carved legs.  Some of them were simple.  Straight lines, no fuss.

Just like people, right?

And then there was the bench.  It was raw lumber and it was thirsty.  I mean, it just soaked up the primer.  And then the second coat of primer.  And then the first coat of paint.  And then the second coat of paint.  And quite honestly it should have probably had a third coat of paint but I was ready to be done and also out of time.

After the first coat of paint I was feeling a little bummed and wondering if I should throw in the towel.  It was streaky and drying weird.

And then I started to think.  What if after my "first coat" Jesus thought I was streaky and weird and he gave up on me?

When I first meet someone, should I give up on them because I think they are streaky and weird?

In my established relationships, when there is a snag or a pothole, should I give up because things are getting streaky and weird?

Or should I square my shoulders and dip the brush and start a second coat?

With each brush stroke the colors deepen, the streaks blend together.  It's still not perfect.  But it adds depth and color and vibrancy.

Last summer Jesus taught me about life with a jacked up cake.  This summer it's a life lesson taught with paint.

Don't give up too soon.  Keep painting.  Keep putting in time and effort.  Appreciate the simple.  Learn to love the complicated.  Look past the streaky and weird.  Trust for the depth and color and vibrancy.

Jesus is into the business of turning stuff from the junk store into a work of imperfect beauty.