Humble Painter

As I sat in my office to work on some things yesterday morning, I noticed a fellow was heading toward our house. Despising door-to-door salesmen, I cringed at the thought of the door bell ringing. My heart began to race. I don't like it when people come to the door when Mark is not home. More times than not, I won't answer the door - regardless of the fact that the person can see right through the beveled glass.

I stayed at my post, watching him carefully park his bike on the sidewalk and walk up the driveway. Clearly he was targeting our house, because he wasn't doing the normal neighborhood rounds. As he came closer, I froze and held my breath. Knowing that he probably couldn't see me through my office window, I wasn't about to take any chances.

I waited . . . there was no knock. No ring of the doorbell. And just as quickly as he passed my window moving in - he passed to leave. He proceeded to jump on his bike, and rode away in stride.

You may be wondering why I choose to write about this today. Big deal, a painter came and left a brochure on my doorstep. What's so special about that? Well, let me tell you why it was so significant for me.

See, months earlier, Mark and I were thinking about getting the exterior of our home painted. We we wanted to get an idea of how much it would cost. So "Mr. Painter" was one of the estimates we received.

I remember being really impressed with this guy. He handled himself in a very professional manner. He seemed to really know his stuff, offering advice and communicating his availability. With manual tools and the use of a pencil and paper, he was able to draw up a pretty reasonable estimate. He was a one man show, who was in business for himself just trying to make ends meet. I respected him for that.

A week or so later, Mark and I ended up getting one more estimate, from a much larger and more popular painting company in town. A very talkative and personable guy came buzzing in with all of the bells and whistles. He had a computer-looking device that took all of his measurements and calculated everything for him. He spoke of the extensive staff they had, fancy office accommodations and an unprecedented reputation.

Was I impressed? I guess a little bit - that is, until I saw the price. Mark and I put our foot down right away, and we managed to bring the estimate down somewhat. But the timing wasn't right for either one of these painters to be hired, so needless to say the project has been put on hold.

Since these two estimates, I have received at least a dozen calls from this more established company. A secretary will call me about every three weeks or so, to see if we are ready to get things going. My reply has always been, "No, not yet. We are just not ready to take this step."

Now Mr. Painter on the other hand . . . aside from one follow-up phone call, hasn't tried to reach us at all. Yesterday's drop of the brochure was the first time I'd heard from him in months. Now in spirit of "salesmanship", I would have to say that the larger company was more on top of things. They had better equipment, more experience and good follow-up, which is probably why they are so successful.

But as Mr. Painter rode away yesterday, something stirred inside that sealed my commitment with this lone ranger. He wasn't breaking my door down or ringing my phone off the hook trying to make a sale. I saw a very humble and tactful man simply working to make a living. As he drove off, I envisioned a family waiting at home, ready to cheer him on.

Mr. Painter may view us as just another lead, but I can't say that I view him as just another painter. While most consumers may look at all of the fancy gadgets and gizmos, and be impressed with all of the networking and overhead . . . I happen to serve a God who looks at the heart.

By far, this humble painter has earned not only my blessing - but my sale too.