It Takes More Than Two to Tango

I tried to tango with an antique radio cabinet; however, things did not turn out the way I had envisioned them. See, I was excited about getting this non-working antique. It was free, and free is always good when you're decorating on a budget. And I knew that a little white paint would transform the tired and ugly old thing into something worth having.

Nevertheless, the poor piece sat in my kitchen for about two years untouched.

Finally, last summer, inspiration and motivation hit me hard, and I knew what had to be done. I went to the laundry room in search of white spray paint. Great! Found three cans of the miracle-working potion. My mission was getting off to a successful start.

But because the seemingly, one-ton radio was still attached to the inside of the cabinet and because no one was at home to help me, I had to figure out how to move the monster by myself.

Did I hear a little voice inside me telling me not to proceed with this project and that probably I should wait for my darlin' hub to get home so that he could help me? Yes, I heard that voice, and yes, I ignored it. And puhpuhleeze, sweet girl, don't tell me that you would have listened.

You see, inspiration and motivation lead to creativity, and I just couldn't stop. Could I?

So, I took two pairs of socks and put one sock on each leg of the cabinet. Then I turned and twisted and tangoed, and I managed to slide the cabinet across the hardwood floors from the kitchen through the dining room right up to the French doors that open to the deck. Problem solved!

Right? Wrong.

By picking up one corner of the cabinet at a time, I did get it over the doorsill and onto the deck. But even with the socks, I couldn't move the cabinet across the rough planks. I took the socks off. Still stuck. Plus, I realized there was no way possible that I maneuver the piece down the steps and into the yard so that I could paint it.

But I had made it this far and was unwilling to admit defeat. I retrieved a drop cloth aka old sheet and spread it out on the deck.

Then I began to paint. Looking good so far. The sun went down. I wasn't finished so I turned on the porch light. Left the cabinet outside to dry overnight. The next morning, I walked outside to check my handiwork. Not bad. But as I picked up the sheet, I saw something horrifying.

An eerie, milky film covered part of the deck. I had ruined the beautiful deck that my darlin' hub had just a month before power washed and restained.

I felt so bad about what I did. Why didn't I wait for someone to help me? I dreaded telling him what I had done. I dreaded his response.

When he got home, I showed him the deck and explained what happened. I expected to hear him say What were you thinking? You know you shouldn't have attempted this project by yourself. I worked so hard on this deck and look at what you've done.

That's what I deserved to hear.

But that's not what he said. Instead, he looked at the deck. Then he looked at me, and he had the sweetest expression on his face. Kind. Compassionate. Forgiving.

He said, "It'll be all right until it's time to stain again." He took my hand, and we walked back into the house.

Now, my man is certainly not perfect, but to me he sure seemed to be close that evening. He chose kindness over harshness and forgiveness over anger.

And you know, He's never mentioned my mistake. He's never reminded me that it takes more than two to tango, especially if one of your partners is an antique radio cabinet.

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you (Ephesians 4:32).

Sweet dreams,

Deb