Couched in a French Patina

Six years after I bought my French-style couch at a second-hand furniture store, my dream of what I thought it could be finally came to life. 

My friend Shawna spent a week painting furniture at my house. She transformed my couch, a French provincial dresser and a hall table, working her magic with chalk paint and wax. 

Shawna lives in my neighborhood but I didn’t get to know her until she read my blog and we discovered we both love all things French. We got together over the holidays and I showed her everything I wanted to paint but didn’t know where to start. 

When I pointed out my 1950s French provincial dresser in my bedroom that is solid but beat up with plenty of gouges, nicks and dings, Shawna started talking colors. 

Her eyes lit up as she described the softest ballerina pink. Then she said but pale blue or dove gray would be great too. 

Wait, she said, she knew just the color. Annie Sloan’s chalk paint in Paris Grey. 

That was it, of course. A little Paris in my bedroom was exactly what I wanted.

I showed her my French couch. I told her how I once tried to paint it but I panicked that it wouldn't turn out  {since I didn’t know what kind of paint the glossy wood needed} so I wiped the paint off before it dried. 

And now six years later, the couch was still unpainted. I told her how I had high hopes for this couch.

Six years ago, I was living in uncertainty after I’d sold my darling bungalow house, put my belongings in storage and moved in with my parents while I waited for the bank to close the short sale on my new townhome. 

I wondered if it would ever work out, as one day looked promising with approvals, while the next day all progress ground to a halt with some new contractual snag.

Instead of being grateful that I had a place to stay rent-free, I worried that I'd made the wrong decision. I was impatient in this temporary limbo and irritable with my parents. 

I was flipping through decorating magazines, wondering if I would ever have a home of my own again, when a French couch caught my eye.

Not long afterward I was surprised to find a similar couch at a resale store but with a dark wood frame. I thought if I painted the frame maybe it could look like the one in the magazine. 

My sister and I drove my brother-in-law’s truck {in a rainstorm} loaded with the French couch straight to my storage unit. 

Weeks afterward, when I’d swing by to check on things, I’d spot the French couch against the back wall with tables and chairs stacked on top of it. I’d hope that someday I’d be able to curl up on it, a book in my hand and a cup of coffee sitting nearby.

As Shawna looked at my furniture and excitedly talked about the colors she would paint it to let the original finish shine through, she envisioned it how she thought it could be.

And as I listened to her, suddenly I could see it like she did.

Isn't that how God sees us? 

He calls things that are not as though they are. 

Our scars, scratches and difficulties don’t mar our beauty in God’s eyes. What we’ve been through and what’s happened to us along the way don’t detract from how he sees us.

Our experiences have marked us, possibly forever, but the way God weaves what has happened to us into our stories to add a different dimension is stunning and alluring, if we choose to see it from his perspective. 

And the only way to explain it is because our plans are not like his plans and our ways are not like his ways. 

We can let our hurts and pain and brokenness leave us in those places, cowering and huddled, without hope. 

Or we can with great effort draw ourselves nearer to him, up very close, where we can begin to see the hidden beauty in ourselves, just as he does and hear the life-giving words he is speaking over us.

“ . . . even God, who gives life to the dead, and calls those things which are not as though they were.” Rom. 4:17

Shawna painted my furniture all week while I was at work. Every night I couldn’t wait to see the progress she made as she revived and renewed their tired old finishes.

On Friday, I came home to find my couch finished, paint and drop cloth gone and my pillows arranged on the couch. 

It looked like it belonged in a Parisian parlor.

It only took six years but somehow it seemed to be perfect timing for Shawna to make my dream come true for my French couch.

She dropped by on Saturday to hand me back my key, and said she was sad that her week at my house was over. I felt the same way. 

But I’ve been thinking.

She mentioned something about painting my piano {if I’m daring}. But I think I have some ideas for paint colors for my dining room buffet.

Coco? French Linen? Or maybe Antoinette or Versailles?

I think I'll ask her to pop over so we can chat about colors while we drink some coffee sitting on my French couch.

Shawna Lieberman's painted furniture can be found here on Facebook. 

I'm linking up with my friends at Holley Gerth's place at Coffee for Your Heart and Bonnie Gray's Faith Barista. Read more inspiring posts from my blogging friends!