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Painting around the furniture...
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My paternal grandfather, Otto Fox, was a robust blend of German and Chickasaw Indian. His features and disposition were reflective of his cultural heritage. His bequests to me included a satisfaction in a job well done; an appreciation for elegant experiences; a handful of attitudes that to this day require diligent attention; and a proboscis two sizes too large. Fortunately, my nose is far more subtle than my grandfather's profile.
My grandfather had little tolerance for imperfection. Especially in people.
And if a person disappointed my grandfather, my grandfather was likely to respond--not with visible contempt--but with a tangible, hurtful dismissiveness.
Ah, but make no mistake, I loved and respected him.
With age my grandfather's own flaws became more apparent, and it became obvious that his intolerance was more about his own fears and inadequacies and sadness than the imperfection of others.
My grandfather was an industrial contractor in Los Angeles. He was justifiably proud of his reputation for precision. Which is why I was so curious when one day he called to tell me he had singlehandedly painted the apartment he and my grandmother shared near the end of their sixty-seven years of marriage. How, I wondered--weighing his insistence for perfection and his aging, weakened body--had he painted the interior of his home? How had he steadied the paintbrush? How had he moved the furniture?
One day I stopped by, at his insistence, so he might show me his handiwork. With a sweeping gesture of his arm he invited me to remark upon his accomplishment. One gaze answered my previous questions. He had indeed singlehandedly painted his apartment. He had not steadied the paintbrush. And he had not moved the furniture.
He had painted the yellow walls of the apartment blue. But only as high as his tall frame could extend, and only as far as the static furniture allowed him access. He had painted around the furniture. More or less.
The memory brings a smile, but strikes me as an apt metaphor for spiritual formation. One, our relational issues are typically evidence of our own stuff rather than others' stuff and, in fact, reflect our need for spiritual formation. Two, we tend to attempt a do-it-yourself make-over of our blemished spirits--a work that is better contracted out to the Spirit. Three, we tend to paint around the furniture, while the Spirit usually starts by tearing down walls.
What does the metaphor, "painting around the furniture," suggest to you in relation to spiritual formation?
Where might you have been "painting around the furniture," where, instead, walls need to come down?
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Michael Fox
m·agine!
530/613.2774
407 Myrtle Drive
Farmerville, LA, USA 71241 |
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In addition to personal and professional coaching,
m·agine! specializes in spiritual transformation coaching,
employing its proprietary models
--Values, Vision, Voice and Heart, Soul, Mind & Strength--
as well as
Myers-Briggs Type Indicator® curriculum
published by CPP, the People Development People.
Michael's books include
Complete in Christ,
Complete in Christ Spiritual Transformation Workbook,
and Biblio·files.
Coaching fees are based upon a sliding scale. Contact us for details.
For additional information, visit our website at maginethepossibilities.net.
Limited scholarships are available for spiritual transformation coaching.
On the flip side, if you are able, please inquire about opportunities
to fund scholarships for those who cannot afford coaching fees.
View our archives!
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