“Would you like to have this pink love seat that we bought from the Fairmont Palliser Hotel renovation sale? ” I heard my friend ask on the other end of the phone. ” Would I? I thought you’d never ask.” A bunch of my friends, I call them ‘the beautiful people’, had all gone down to this hotel’s purging sale and scooped up a half dozen or more of these lovely pink love seats and several coffee tables to match. I was quite disappointed that I had missed out. This was years ago. I’d been lusting after the couches for years as I saw them in the homes of my lucky friends and now “I” finally had one. Bonus: she just gave it to me (aka free) as they were purging and moving or something. So there it sat at the foot of our bed for many years. I continue to look at it and remind myself that I should recover it. It needed to be recovered as opposed to slip covered because of the wooden frame. It was a lovely pink but the fabric was dated and dirty (I mean hello? the Palliser didn’t want them anymore because they were worn). I kept it covered with cushions so you could barely see the pink anyway. I guess I was using it as sort of a make shift foot board for our bed since our bed merely sat upon a metal frame. I put a mirror and some pictures at the head of the bed to take the place of a headboard and the love seat completed the look at the foot.
Then one day I pinned a beautiful settee on Pinterest that was recovered in black and white striped fabric with gold wood trim. That would match my black and white striped walls perfectly, I thought to myself. I would love to have one of those. But alas, I am skint these days and this wasn’t a necessity of life so, dream on. I did spot some black and white fabric at Chintz and Co. last time I was there but it was $45 a metre. I don’t think so! Then, as luck would have it, on my last visit to IKEA, to buy decor items for someone’s wedding, out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of some black and white striped fabric. Upon closer inspection I noticed it was on sale for $6.99 a metre. I wasn’t supposed to be looking for myself but this was a no brainer. This fabric was coming home with me. So I bought 5 metres of that beautiful fabric (not really sure how I would use it….but the love seat was definitely one option). There it sat in its clear smooth bag until I found the opportunity to do something with it. I decided I was going to use it to transform that pink love seat (I have too much pink in my life anyway) and I was going to do it this very weekend. Lexie was in Nashville at a wedding. Andrew as at work and Mike would be golfing. Just me and the love seat in the old Stewart mansion.
So I jumped out of bed this Saturday and rallied all the tools I would need. A screw driver, a hammer, some pliers, some scissors, a staple gun, some paint and a paintbrush and I set out to rip the old fabric off that love seat. I am sure there must be some industry standard that indicates there has to be no less that 25 staples per square inch. Seriously? In no time at all my finger nails were chipped and my hands were bleeding. But as I sat there, wondering why I took this on when I could be sipping a Peach Green Tea Lemonade and reading at Starbucks…. something occurred to me. I’d spend far too many afternoons and evenings this past year sitting at Starbucks sipping a Peach Green Tea Lemonade and basically thinking about all I should do, had to do and doing, precisely, exactly, nothing.
Yes, this was going to be hard work. Was I afraid of hard work? Had I ever been afraid of hardwork? Not that I remember. Had I become so soft in my year of unemployment that I no longer could do the hard work? Did I not have stamina anymore? Did I not have perseverance? Maybe it was the mindset that had abandon me? So I grabbed a stool to sit on, as I realized at this point, this was going to be back breaking work and settled in to make ‘removing staples’ an opportune time to meditate. As I sat there on this beautiful Saturday with sunbeams streaming into our bedroom and the sound of lawnmowers in the distance (sure sign of summer) I decided to press on. Slow and steady wins the race. When I think of recovering a couch I usually focus on the sewing part. Recovering the cushions…that’s my comfort zone. Oh how I love my comfort zone. Then it occurred to me that I had no idea how to recover this particular love seat. I had no idea how they applied all the fabric to look so smooth and perfect and once I had it apart, what if I couldn’t get it back together again? Of course, this isn’t my first rodeo. I have recovered furniture before. But not for a long time. I’d grown soft and lazy and very often, defeated.
I remember, years ago getting quite sick with a cold and I was in the middle of an upholstery project. My parents came over with a Get Well card that said “Sure hope you recover soon”. They howled.
As I pulled out stubborn staple after stubborn staple I began a conversation with the most creative person I know, the Creator of the Universe, He began to gently speak to me. And He reminded me of his directives on how I should handle my new ‘living by faith’ life. He pointed out that I need to quit talking about things and quit having intentions of doing things and actually do them. Fear was slowing me down. Uncertainty about the future was backing me cowering into a corner. For so long, I had just wanted everything to go back to normal (whatever that was) but I’ve started to have stirrings about a new normal. That old normal is not going to be my normal anymore. He reminded me that I just have to plug along and keep taking out staples. Keep peeling back the layers of fabric and the process will reveal itself to me. But first I have to start. If you want to walk on water you have to get out of the boat. And even if it looks like I’m getting nowhere – persist. Keep doing what I know is right. Keep pulling out those staples.
Soon I could see clearly how the back piece of fabric was applied. Yes – I could do this. Still having no clue about how the front fabric was applied – I kept pulling out staples and within another half hour I could see clearly how all the front fabric was put on. Once I could see the plan, the work didn’t seem as hard anymore. I still had to finish removing the staples but at least I knew what I was going to do next. I still hadn’t figured out how the bottom of the love seat was covered as it was all encased in the wooden frame work. Then I realized there was a screw in a corner piece of wood on each corner of the bottom of the seat and it dawned on me. Take out the screws and the bottom piece lifted right off, making it infinitely easier than I ever imagined. Now that the bottom piece was off, I could see how much easier it was going to be to get all the other pieces stapled back in place. I could now see, entirely, how to put this love seat back together. Sometimes God gives us clues in our lives and if we follow up on them, things get easier. But we have to be listening and watching.
There is still a lot of work to be done though. I have to sand the wood to rough it up for another color of paint and then paint it. While that paint is drying I will busy myself sewing the new cushion covers for the detachable cushions. This truly was the easy part. I could do this part in my sleep (and usually do).
It was so clear how this was parallel to my life. I even asked myself this morning…is this how I should spend my day? This little project serves no one but me. But now I know why I am recovering this couch today. Actually several thoughts came to mind but the most prominent one was this. I am embarking on my new normal this coming week (because circumstances have shifted) and I needed this lesson. I needed this reminder. Just start. Even if I can’t see where its all going…just start and He will reveal what I need to know when I need to know it and He will bless my obedience and persistence and will grow in me, perseverance. Do the hard work. No one else is going to do it for me. Most often we don’t know where God is leading until we set out in faith and obedience.
I am hugely encouraged by the lengths God will go to speak to me. Most often I think an idea is my own and it turns out it isn’t my idea at all.
I’ll post pictures when its done, naturally. Of the couch, that is.
The Red Plaid Apron 