“I know what we can do. We’ll get more cats,” quips Husband-the-cat-‘hater’.
I have to chuckle through my tears. Another crisis, but we’ll live through it still married.
Sanding dust covers everything. The plywood base for countertops was perfectly
cut and attached to the new base cabinets, then puttied and sanded. The sanding dust hangs on the light fixtures, the woodwork, the picnic table and chairs we eat on. It crept inside the cabinets, stove, and refrigerator. And our beautiful new wood floors can’t be seen under the thick coat of dust . . . except where Kitty Mack had lounged. That one place in the whole house was clean, inadvertently mopped clean by kitty fur.
“So if we get enough cats, they’ll mop the floor and keep it clean,” says he with enviable mirth. So glad for his humor because mine has left me. I’m completely and tearfully overwhelmed with the prospect of sanding dust for the next five days compounded by the fear of flubbing my only big project in this whole house building adventure. I’m not sure I can pull off my job of making concrete countertops. Actually, faux concrete. It’s not poured concrete, it’s a hybrid product of concrete and resin (perhaps?) that is troweled on in thin layers mimicking poured concrete. No big deal. Unless you’re unsure of yourself and scared you’ll mess up a big, permanent component of your new house. Somehow I didn’t get much comfort from Husband’s consoling remark about if I blow it, we’ll just buy a Rustoleum product and paint it over the botched countertops.
So I gather myself together and get alone to get back-up from God. I have experienced the God of all comfort coming alongside me my whole life, from big losses like the death of my mother when I was in high school to trivial things like losing my keys. Today is no exception. I open my “Daily Light on the Daily Path” book of Scripture verses for each day. There it is, exactly what my faint heart needs. “Be strong, all you people of the land”, declares the LORD, “and work. For I am with you,” declares the LORD Almighty. Haggai 2:4

I notice that God tells not just the skilled craftsmen, but all the people to work. So I can do my part and I can be strong because the Lord Almighty is with me. What a comfort that was as I struggled to get the hang of evenly troweling on a gritty base coat in a pleasing pattern. Four hours later, the first segment of the process was completed. Of course, not without drama. Not once, but thrice trying-to-be-helpful Husband put his hand into the wet base coat. Ok, I can re-trowel that. I don’t want to re-do it, but I can. Now poor Husband must sand off the high or rough spots (perhaps due to accidents?!) in preparation for the next coats. Yes, more dust, but God is with me even in the small things. And I don’t think we’ll need those other cats.
The whole dust thing got me thinking of the fact that we, ourselves, are dust. The Creator took plain ol’ dirt and formed us. He reminds us that our bodies are dust and will return to dust. But the good news is that our inner person can experience life that goes on forever in a much better place. And at the right time, God will remake even the dust and give us enduring bodies in which to enjoy the delights of his new earth. And our work there will be drama free!
I’ve also been reminded daily that I need to daily forgive that scammer that took our money and didn’t make our cabinets. Had the cabinets been delivered on schedule, the floors, fixtures, stove, and fridge wouldn’t have even been installed. And a lot of this hassle would have been avoided. But I know that forgiveness is freeing and I know that God redeems situations, bringing good out of evil.
Update Day 2: Good outcome and good crisis management practice. The troweler failed to communicate to the assistant how much activator liquid to add to the cement to thin what had become too thick in the bucket. Oops. The thick cement is now thin soup instead of pancake batter. We don’t have enough product to start over. I can’t trowel soup. Prayers. Attitude check. No matter what happens, I can’t be upset when there are so many people facing true crises like seriously ill children. We decide to add what powder we can spare in hopes of thickening the soup. But will it change the color so much it won’t match the countertop which is already done? God is merciful to this dumbie. After a waiting period, the soup thickens and is useable. Relief!  More sanding, more dust.
Update Day 3: Morning: Another layer applied to random areas to try to cover the ugly trowel chatter marks in parts of the Day 2 layer.  More sanding, more dust.
Afternoon: More drama. I carefully measure the activator liquid, dye, and concrete powder. Yikes! Why is the resulting product as thin as water? Why is it way too dark? I’ll pour it onto a part of the counter that will be covered by an appliance garage. Arg! Awful! Plan B. I’ll just use a little of yesterday’s cement, cover the trouble spots and call it done. Good lesson in learning to let it go. The outcome of the countertops is less than perfect. I’m reminded than I am an imperfect human being in an imperfect world. But it looks fine and I choose to relinquish regrets.