There really are so many emotional hurdles to overcome before painting a piece of furniture. Should I paint this? What kind of paint should I use? What color? Do I need to sand this entire thing down? What supplies do I need? Do I have the talent to do this? What if I ruin it forever?!
I feel like the first half of this year tried to bury me under a truckload of fear and unworthiness that God was wanting to heal. But man, it was hard. I wanted to hide, not shine. I wanted to become invisible, not take up more space.
For so many years I’ve felt like I apologize for taking up space. I like to stand behind people so as not to get in the way. I prefer to be hidden in case I do something wrong or overstep my boundaries or say something unhelpful. I don’t feel the liberty to share the depths of my dreams, pain, or story, for fear people wouldn’t care or refuse to let me take up a little space.
There has been a lot stirring within me the last few months, I feel like my heart has been ripening for more healing and rest — but more on that maybe later. I was asked recently, “What are some of your favorite leisurely activities?” I said I loved to write.
But I rarely take time to write anymore.
Which confirms something I am learning about myself: I DON’T REST WELL.
After painting our old "freebie" dining room table about five times, Brian decided to buy me a real "farmhouse" table for my 30th birthday last year. As everyone knows, they can be quite pricey so I decided to look online for some more affordable options.