Project Bathroom. . .

How does a journey of a thousand miles begin? By taking the first step. I've learned that the best way to keep moving forward is to focus not only on what may be ahead but to glance over my shoulder, occasionally so that I can see what is behind me, too. By doing so, I can see where I've been and learn from it. I find that applying this practice makes staying on course much easier, no matter the task, great or small.

Ordinarily, I tend to approach most things with caution. So much so that, over the years, I have missed out on some things that, looking back, I know I would have enjoyed. But we can't change the past. (Although, I do believe we can change how we relate to the past. So, in a sense that might be considered changing it.) That has nothing to do with my bathroom, however!

Ah, yes, the bathroom project I've taken on is going to be a journey, indeed! I am not at all patient when it comes to any kind of household renovations. There's something about the upheaval of disrupting methodical orderliness and having things strewn about while the work gets done that seems to cause me great distress. (I'm sure there's something deeply symbolic there but, right now, that doesn't matter.) In earlier years, whenever I embarked on such projects, I would simply work at them non-stop until they were finished and everything was put back. Sometimes, the paint wouldn't even be dry yet. I hate all the prep work and will side-step it at every opportunity -- painting around things, over cobwebs and even the spiders, themselves, sometimes -- calling it "good enough."

Several years ago, a young man did some interior painting for us. I learned a lot by observing him as he went about his work. I'm not talking about painting techniques, although I picked up a few pointers there, too. First, I was impressed with how patiently he worked. Gradually, I began to notice more about his overall demeanor; his contented, peaceful expression. "He can't be enjoying this," I thought to myself. Besides, he had to be tired since this painting was side-line work after a day at his full-time job. This really puzzled me but the more I observed him, I soon began to understand that he was feeling like I do when I work in the yard. We later had a conversation about that. How nice, that we, God's people, are so unalike, yet so alike in the spiritual things that really matter!

I'm going to be putting some of what I learned from that young man to use in the days to come while I'm working on "project bathroom." His good example in patience, along with the patient technical advice from my son whenever I need it, will encourage me to be more patient, myself, and to be content to work in small intervals. Yesterday, all the "cluttery stuff" got cleared away......and that was enough. Today, everything attached to the walls came down......and that was enough. The room is now empty, except for the plumbing fixtures. Tomorrow, the ceiling and walls will get prepped......and that will be enough. After that, more small steps.

It's bittersweet to loosen screws that Bob has tightened and to take down things he hung in place. Memories wash over me and I ache. Yet I smile for the gift of having them. It's hard to describe the feelings that are evoked as, on my own, I go about the task of maintaining this little nook we carved out together. But it would be much worse if I were to try to prevent time from happening by refusing to make changes.

Meanwhile, my hallway looks as though I could be a candidate for that TV show about hoarders. It's not going to bother me one bit when it comes time to change that!