You ever restore something before? Maybe an old cabinet or a table? Hell, even a pair of shoes or sneakers? If you have, then you might be familiar with how the process goes. It can be tedious, meticulous, and all the ‘ous’’s. However, the end result; the masterpiece only unveiled through countless strokes of sanding, scrubbing, or grinding; is what any restoration tech lives for.
This.
This concept had me thinking last week while I was sent out with my window restoration team to repair and paint some historical window jams.
There I was up on a scaffold, the midday sun rays piercing my sweat drenched back like a volley of arrows. I had been painting since 6:30am.
Let’s be clear, I had no experience in painting with a paintbrush out in the field before. I’m used to airbrushing tubs, not painting by hand. So, you can imagine the level of frustration I had while being high up on a scaffold playing acrobat trying to position myself well enough to reach the jams.
Picture a non flexible spider monkey trying to hang from a tree branch. That’s more or less what I looked like.
I thought to myself, ‘c’mon, Felix. You were an iron worker for f-sakes. This should be child’s play for ya.’
Nope.
And then of course, the myriad of other annoying questions came flooding through my brain like:
‘Why are we using brushes?’
‘Why can’t we use an airbrush?’
‘Wouldn’t that be faster?’
‘Why the hell are we not using scissor lifts?’
‘Why is it so g-damn hot???????’
Yes, the monkey mind was screeching for answers that day.
But I kept silent
Thank God.
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Swearin’ and sweatin’. That’s usually the protocol when a not so young man is working. I can have the tendency to get so damn frustrated when trying restore/repair something.
‘Why can’t this just work for me?”
‘Come on, why can’t this paint be wet enough to cover this in one pass???’
Sometimes (and I know I’m speaking for ALL tradesmen here) I can totally lose my shit and slam my hand on the nearest drywall or even kick my toolbox or worse; yell the first word of profanity that comes to mind at the top of my lungs hoping that the clouds hear it and start deploying armies of raindrops to extinguish the fire within me.
Man, I sure can sweat the little things.
Then, in the midst of my mental tradesmen tantrum, a whisper of a thought breezed through my mind:
‘Does God get like this with me?’
Man, oh man, talk about humble pie.
Immediately, I recall the account from the Gospel of St. Luke where the famous ‘sons of thunder’, Sts. James and John, both had a tantrum of their own.
Facing the disrespect of being rejected hospitality by the Samaritans while traveling to Jerusalem with Christ, the sons of thunder grew vehement.
“Lord, do You want us to command fire to come down from heaven and consume them, just as Elijah did?”
Wow.
Talk about a tantrum!
I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve wanted heavenly fire to consume past work projects, irritable clients, project managers etc.
Now let’s take a look at what Christ says in return:
“You do not know what manner of spirit you are of. For the Son of Man did not come to destroy men’s lives but to save them.”
Again, I’m no theologian or priest and I am not attempting to teach anything but this is clear as day. Our Lord basically said;
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve missed the point this whole time. I came to save and to restore; not to destroy.’
And how can I give an objection to that? How dare I! At least St John and St James were dealing with people who were being rude but me? I’m dealing with tools! Inanimate objects! Paint!
Yet Christ still whispers to me via Scripture,
‘To save; not to destroy.’
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When I think of all the times I’ve missed the mark or I’ve been at fault, I am immediately humbled. My job is to restore windows; not to destroy them. It’s to take these things which have been battered and damaged and worn out and restore them back to its original charm and glory. I’m supposed to be saving these antiques. That requires patience. Lots and lots of patience.
And if God doesn’t send heavenly fire on me, sinner that I am, why should I kick my tool box or curse the clouds? If He who is the ultimate Judge does not condemn me, then why should I, who has no idea of the manner of spirit I am of, condemn my work? Or my project managers, or my associates, or superiors, or my family members, my wife, my friends, etc.
You get the point.
So can these bones live again? Can God turn ash into beauty? Can He make something that was dead and make it live again?
Yes. Yes, He can and does so every day and especially in my work life. These long 12 hour days on site can be brutal and testing, but God never leaves me. I can learn something and be humbled even from way up on a scaffold doing blue collar acrobatics.
Thank God for that!
–m.
Of Sand and Bone 