MY OLD PAINTED TABLE

A Guest Blog post by Maryel Nelson

It was a wonderful old table. I discovered it in an estate sale. A co-worker and friend, Carol, had opened her mother’s home after her death and had all of the dear lady’s belongings lined up in each room. Among the treasures I explored was furniture that an elderly woman would typically have; some beautiful precious items along with some tattered keepsakes that one can only imagine must have been tucked away in a cupboard or closet for many years. I wandered from room to room, picking up pieces of crystal and silver, gazing at the old pictures still hanging on the walls, and thumbing through the bookshelves along with exploring the drawers filled with linens and lace.

Again and again I was drawn back to a round end table placed under the front window in the living room. I don’t know why I was so taken by that table. It had probably been painted many times, the last coat being white with some green areas highlighted with a bit of gold, yet chipped and stained from many years of service. The top of the round table was split from one side to the other, probably broken years before. A ring of carving was on the top, but slight as a result of the layers of paint. It had a wonderful little shelf below and four spindly legs that I found very graceful and interesting.

It may have been an end table for the living room, or perhaps a bedside table. From the looks of it, it had likely been used for many purposes in multiple rooms and perhaps a number of homes over the years. As I pondered over it again and again, I wondered why I even considered such a purchase. Where would I use it, what could I do with it? I didn’t have the time, knowledge or even the desire to tackle the restoration of such a piece, but I found myself paying the modest price as my husband, Jerry, loaded it into the car.

The table was unused for a time, until we moved into a new home. The house had an extra bedroom to furnish, and I chose a dark iron bed and a coverlet that had somewhat of a yesteryear look. I placed the old table next to the bed, thinking that I could frame some old family pictures to place upon it to help fit the décor. It was a guest room, rarely used, so the old relic would do.

With yet another move for my husband’s career, our belongings were once again loaded and moved to another house in another city. It was a wonderful old English Tudor home with lovely rooms but with some challenging renovations and questions of furniture placement. The master bedroom was long and narrow, one end surrounded by short windows in what used to be a sleeping porch. As a result of a radiator along one wall, the width of the room would not permit the two bedside tables that were typically placed on each side of the bed. I decided to try the bed at a slight angle in the corner in front of the windows and put a tall plant between the windows and the detailed ivory metal headboard. Knowing this arrangement would result in the use of one bedside table rather than two, I would have to begin the search for just the right piece of furniture, but in the meantime, I put the old painted table in the voided spot.

As typical for me, I gazed at the arrangement again and again to see if the furnishings were positioned creating just the look I was shooting for. The more I looked at this challenging bedroom, the more I liked it. The room gave a cottage-like feel with the sun shining through the windows from three sides. I had chosen a fairly dark green carpet and had painted the walls just a bit lighter shade. I had been concerned that the colors maybe would be too dark, but with the light furniture, it would be a beautiful room with wooden shades at all of those windows once I found just the right table to sit next to the bed.

The old painted table was right in many ways in that room, perfect in size and the lower shelf was an added feature to set perhaps a phone, a book, or the many items one needs handy at the end of a busy day or as the new dawn breaks. Could I sand the table a bit, repaint it and maybe even try my hand at a little gold leafing? It could be fun trying to be somewhat creative. So I set out to purchase all of the supplies, sand paper, steel wool, white spray paint, a couple of colors of craft paint to lightly blend into the white and some gold leaf paint to maybe highlight the carving on the top and maybe just a bit on the legs that had such detail.

I returned to our new yet old home quite excited about my purchases and was resigned that if I made a mess of the table, it would not be a great loss. I started in with the sand paper, discovering that I was right about the many layers of paint. I didn’t intend to sand it to the bare wood, only to take out the years of bumps and nicks in order to get the surface ready for yet another coat of paint. I asked my husband to glue the split top together, and in only the way that he does, he began the process to make what I thought would be a quick and easy request turn into, in his words, “doing it right.” He took great care to disassemble the entire table, removing the legs, bottom shelf and the green etched piece under the broken top. He sanded the old dried glue, drilled, and toiled until he was satisfied, then began the reassembly of the broken top. With special wooden pieces he placed glue on the raw edged top and put it in a vice, then set it aside for the glue to dry overnight. After much time and effort the old table was reassembled and stood as solid as it surely had many years before, but still appearing to be just an old table.

Looking it over, I decided that the “right thing to do” would be to try to remove as much of the paint in the carved circle on the top as I could. So once again I was off to the hardware store to purchase some paint stripping supplies. Back home again, I pulled on some rubber gloves and started the process. I sprayed the top and waited the suggested ten minutes and watched with amazement. The old paint just bubbled up and lifted from the surface in crackles. With a putty knife I peeled away the layers. With additional coats of stripper, and more times of watching the process, I knew that I had gone further than what I had intended to simply paint the old thing.

Under the white paint I found a number of colors that included a couple of shades of greens, some yellow and finally a deep crimson next to the exposed wood. It all came off quite easily except the ring of carved details. I once again gave the carved areas another shot of the miracle chemical and began to use a wire brush to go deep into the crevices. With more and more of this burning agent and some hard elbow grease, along with my wire brush, I was amazed at the beauty that was appearing before my eyes. The carving was a masterpiece and with such fine details.

Now that I had seen the beautiful table top displayed in front of me, I knew that the “right thing to do” would be to turn what I thought would be a quick little job into quite a project. I continued once again with the miracle stripper and began to saturate the bottom shelf and legs. As with the tabletop, the smooth surfaces just bubbled right up waiting to be wiped away. But those legs, full of the spindles in one direction and the flutes deeply carved in the other, were going to give me a bigger challenge. I sprayed and I wiped, using the wire brush and steel wool. At one point the wind took a bit of the stripper into my face, and I felt the instant burning from the fine spray. My rubber gloves were also revealing the chemical’s intense nature as they were being eaten away. This chemical was indeed mighty powerful stuff.

Pulling on another pair of gloves, I continued to tackle the process again, but by this time I was like a child on a treasure hunt. I was beginning to realize that this old table was just that, quite a treasure. I worked and I toiled in the deep creases taking care to remove every last morsel of paint. Once I thought it was all gone, I realized that a bit of the red had saturated into some portions of the wood grain on the legs. I sprayed once again and watched those wooden pieces appear to bleed until finally I could wipe away the last trace of red paint. I took a step back to admire what was once an old table becoming something quite lovely, created with much care long, long ago. All the while I thought I had just an interesting old table when indeed I had a priceless creation, made by a master craftsman’s hand.

Through the process of the stripping away of the layers of paint, I experienced a great time with the Lord. It was as if He was telling me, “This is what I can do for lives of those that will allow me to.” I began to see all of the layers of paint as a symbol of the many surfaces that cover our lives. And wow, year after year, layer after layer, the build-up can be pretty thick and hard, chipped and stained. The surface coat could even look pretty good for a while, but then we set something on top of our table of life, and we have a big old stain showing, just when you thought you had it appearing to be quite fine. How many layers of paint do we wear year after year, and continue to avoid the real stripping process?

God is truly the only “miracle chemical” that can strip away all of the painted layers that we wear during this journey of life. Whether others applied the paint upon our lives, or we have spread a few layers on ourselves, we all can benefit much from allowing the removal by Him who created us.

The Psalmist wrote:

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My name was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book.” Psalm 139:13-16

Wow! How good is that? God knew me long before I knew Him. He knew all the days of my life. What joy that brings to my soul! My every focus can be of His perfect creation rather than the layers of paint that living in this world brings.

How many more layers will be added until we begin the process of removal? Oh, we can chip away at it little by little creating nicks or gouges on the outer surface as we go. Or we even put on a fresh coat now and then, and feel pretty proud of ourselves for doing so, but then all we have is the old life, with old habits, and the same old results.

Who put that paint on our table of life anyway? It could be that words or circumstances from years ago ring loud in our ears still today. I grew up in a wonderful secure home, with very loving parents. If there was one thing I could always be sure of, my parents adored each other, and they loved each of their four children with all of their hearts. I can honestly say that I probably had close to a perfect childhood. Love, values, firm discipline and respect were a given in our home, all of which were gifts, tremendous attributes given lovingly to my life. But even with all of those wonderful qualities, no family is perfect. And isn’t that good training ground for the realities of life. The old saying is true – “life, it’s not perfect”.

Maryel Nelson is a member of St. Paul’s Lutheran Church (Decatur, IL). Having served in a number of roles, she most recently stepped back from the leadership of the SPL Women’s Ministry Team. She continues to serve in the community in a number of ways, though she spends much time serving at New Life Pregnancy Center.