So, in the midst of my already-crazy life, we are trying to refinance our house to get on a 15-year mortgage. That means i am getting our home ready for an appraisal.
Um...
Er...
Blech.
Well, here i am, scrubbing, painting, trashing, filing, cleaning, dusting, sorting, organizing, and patching, and it hits me: Spackle. Duh.
My life can be represented by the wall in my stairwell: there are dozens of fingerprints from all the people who have touched me, making their mark on my life; there are nicks from the times something got away from me along the way; there are cracks from the settling that naturally happens as we age, threatening to expose what is hidden away; there are half a dozen or so nail pops from screws and nails that are trying to get out of the original construction, which need time and attention to restore; and there are scuffs from people getting carried away and not being aware of the damage they are doing.
The Stairwell Wall = My Life.
Okay, so my life needs a little TLC, but overall, it is a simple fix: Spackle.
The nicks, scuffs, dents, and dings can be covered up with Spackle. Just like the nicks, scuffs, dents, and dings in our lives are covered by the blood of Jesus. Like they were never there. Miraculous.
The fingerprints? They are messy but real.
The cracks? The facade is coming away to reveal what is really underneath.
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