Delving into the uncomfortable

I think I owned a single cheap paint brush, acquired who knows where and never used, before this project.  My idea of home improvement is eyeballing where to place a nail to hang a picture frame; refinishing furniture had never entered my mind.  Like most of our furniture, our dressers were once owned by distant relatives or discovered at a rummage sale, and unlike most of our functional pieces, they looked like it.  I'm not sure, but they might have been in the trenches during the Great War or even involved in the War of 1812, the War of the Roses was probably a little too early though, but whichever war they came through, it was time to do something about it.  I like them, they are very roomy, solid, and functional, but they look like they were left out in the rain for a couple months and then were run over by a bus.  We could have bought new ones, but modern dressers seem to be abominably expensive, of very poor quality, and lacking in functional space.  So I asked the almighty google if there was any hope, and after perusing various and sundry blogs, I discovered there was.  Thus began my career as a furniture refurbisher.  It has been an interesting project, and no, I won't be taking this up full time, but it is fun to know I can do it and the results are rather impressive (and much more economical than buying new furniture).

So what does my foray into home improvement have to do with anything?  Probably nothing, but it reminds me that often life takes us in directions we can hardly begin to imagine and looking back we wonder how we ended up there in the first place but are quite happy for the detour.  This was one such, though very minor, example.  I just read a passage that minded me of this very thing: Jesus had been speaking all day and there were thousands of people gathered around, it was getting dark and they were hungry.  He then turns to his disciples and asked them to feed the ravenous throng, which of course resulted in protestations of impossibility from his companions.  Of course painting a dresser is nothing compared to feeding thousands, but still, the reaction is the same, 'but…"  How often do we balk at attempting the difficult, let alone the impossible, simply because of our own doubts and fears?  Is it not such crazy ventures that make for the best stories?  Is it not around such unanticipated bends in the road that we find the most satisfying and intriguing results?  Perhaps, instead of balking at something as impossible, we need to step out in faith and simply say, 'yes, Lord,' and trust that He'll work out the thorny details.  The results will definitely surprise you!