All Our Walls Are Painted

“I never knew paint meant so much.”

Look around the room you’re in right now. I don’t care if it’s your house, your workplace, school, a coffee shop, or the doctor’s office. Are the walls painted?

Chances are, every wall in the room is painted. The paint might be chipped. The walls might need a fresh coat. But I bet all the walls are painted.

I was talking with a very dear friend just a few days ago and she told me about her son’s most recent revelation. Now, her son is 12-years-old. Most people don’t expect too many life revelations out of someone so young. But his thoughts hit me hard.

He recently went to Memphis on a mission trip. He didn’t go far. He wasn’t in a third world country. He was right here in America in Memphis, TN.

His mom told me about his trip and about the things he said after his return. She had tears in her eyes as she spoke proudly about her son.

Some of the kids on the trip were able to work directly with the less fortunate kids at the place they were serving, but he was on the “construction crew.”

At first, he was bummed that he wouldn’t be working directly with people. I find myself feeling the same way. If I’m not speaking with someone and watching their reaction from my service, I feel like I haven’t done anything worthwhile — like I haven’t touched a life.

His mom said when he returned, he stood up at church to talk about his trip. He said a lot of really moving things. His instructor even said, “He really got it.” He had really grasped what the trip was all about.

But the thing that stood out to me the most that his mom told me he said was, “I never knew paint meant so much.” The kids had gotten so excited that they now had painted walls.

It hit me. All my walls in my house are painted. They always have been. And I have never once thought about it nor have I ever appreciated it.

Now, I certainly have wished for more. All the time, all too often, I think “What if I had a house like that, a car like that, clothes like that…” The list goes on and on and on.

But these kids were jumping up and down with genuine happiness because there was a coat of paint on their walls.

It touched me that a 12-year-old had really understood how much of a difference he had made to these kids just with a little bit of paint. He knew the paint made a difference, but him taking the time and love to paint the wall made even more of a difference.

If you’re reading this, I bet you have a life full of paint. If you’ve never acknowledged that before, think about it right now. Think about all the walls in your life that are painted.

Like the room you’re in that might have chipped paint, some areas of your life might need a fresh coat, but nevertheless, the walls have still been painted at some point.

When I went home that night after talking with my friend, I didn’t think one time about how I wish I had a bigger television or new clothes in my closet. I took a good, hard look at every wall in my room before I went to sleep. I smiled and thanked God for my painted walls and went to sleep more peacefully than I have in a while.

Man, God sure did a good paint job on my life. He’s quite the artist. And the least I can do is pass that along and paint someone else’s world.

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