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Surrounded by the bits of torn wallpaper and the rubble of the
crumbling wall I realize I might be in way over my head.
It’s quite obvious that my need is much greater than a can
of Venetian plaster can solve.
I need a professional!
I need someone who actually knows what they are doing.
Somebody who is familiar with crumbling walls and what it
takes to rebuild them.
Somebody whose knowledge doesn't come just from reading builders’
blogs and manuals but from the gritty personal experience, the rough and the
cracks on their hands proving that they actually do their work themselves.
Someone who not only possesses the patience and the skill but
is also willing to stick with me through the long journey - some may call it a ‘detour’ - ahead of me.
Through the filling of the unsightly holes and rebuilding
the backing.
Through smoothing down the rough till it matches the texture
of the drywall.
Through prepping and priming.
Until the surface is finally ready for that beautifully
understated sage green Venetian Plaster.
I need someone who is willing to stay with me through all my 'are we there yet?'
Who is willing to stay with me even when I want to quit.
Who is willing to stay with me all
the way to the end, until the work is finished and the towels are hung and the toilet paper roll is placed in the holder.
Right now it seems to me like a God-size job that requires
God-size qualifications.
But then a funny thought crosses my mind...
OMG! My God was once a Jewish
carpenter...
I will never desert you, nor will I ever forsake you. Hebrews 13:5
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