Scuff Marks

This afternoon I decided to tackle some touch-up painting that needed to be done for a project Robby is working on in his closet.  On my way in the house and up the stairs to his closet, I noticed there were quite a few scuff marks on the walls.  We've painted very little in our house so far, so most of the walls are still the builder's off-white.  Since I had the paint out, I figured I'd just touch-up some of those scuff marks.

It wasn't until after I'd started painting that I noticed just how many scuff marks there were.  How could I live in a house with that many marks on the walls and not notice them?  As I painted over mark after mark, I thought about how all of those marks could have gotten there.  Some I could identify exactly how they got there.  I could see little finger prints.  There were places where small ride-on cars were driven into the wall.  In one place there was even the damage from a 20-month-old and a pen.  Some of the others were just the result of having 4 people living in the house. 

 

It was as I was working my way down the stairs that I felt the Holy Spirit whisper to me, asking how often my life looks like these walls.  When I stop to look, do I see scuff marks that I didn't even realize were there?  A bad attitude, an ugly word, a bitter heart.  Some recognizable, some not. 

How often do I seek forgiveness for the little things?  It's obvious when I have a big spill that it needs cleaning up immediately.  But how often do I ask the Master Painter to get out His paintbrush and re-paint the walls of my heart?  Probably, not often enough.