Lessons from a Cast Iron Tub

As you get to know me, you'll realize I'm the lady with a story for everything. God takes the daily stuff of life and teaches me, and then I tend to write about it. So here goes the cast iron tub. I sense this is something for someone out there, and I'm learning right with you!

Our house is a 1939 Colonial with a cast iron tub with peeling paint. We've had three different kinds of "tub people" in there giving us their ideas and estimates. Perhaps because the estimators worked with products they always dismissed replacing the tub, but always said they advised against to because it was a cast iron tub.

The tub is too heavy and impossible to move out of a small bathroom and out of an old house.

It's a heavy burden that would be easier to take care of it you buy a pretty shell to surround the tub, throw down a new liner to hide the flaws, or buy a nice kit that you can gloss over the paint.

Gee, that sounds like my approach to how I handle conflict in my life!

Like the estimators, I also get in my head that I have to deal with the entire process that moment. Cast iron tubs aren't meant to come out easy. It isn't pretty trying to picture a group of workers hauling a tub out of a small bathroom because it's not reality.

Last week a new estimator came in and looked at the tub. Without a beat he asked why we never replaced it. I explained the workers before him and their reasons. He shook his head.

"We take the tub out a piece at a time. This way you still fix the problem, but in a doable way, not some cheap fix that will have your tub showing new peeled paint in a year or so."

Knock me over with a feather! That spoke to me on so many levels. Instead of thinking I'm a failure because I'm having trouble trusting God with finances (which is a lingering issue for me) I realize I'm throwing some paint on a tub because I'm afraid I can't carry the tub. I can't. I can deal with it a piece at a time and know God is doing a greater work in me this way. I tend to think in marathon ways instead of sprints. The tub showed me a true work is a work in progress, and one that takes care of the issue, not just temporairly hides it.

Does this speak to anyone?

If you're thinking about fixing a cast iron tub, take it from me, do it a piece at a time.

(This originally appeared in a group message over on the Facebook group: Julie Arduini: The Surrendered Scribe


Julie Arduini is a writer and public speaker residing in NE Ohio with her husband and two children. Her heart is to encourage readers to find freedom through surrender. She knows that has to start with her, so she's surrendering the good, the bad, and maybe one day, the chocolate. She'd love if you bookmarked her website and signed her blog guest book at JulieArduini.com. She also went all techie and created a gadget you can use on your iGoogle page. Feel free to add it and tell others.


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