covered in bruises and dry wall dust

This new job of mine is very physical.  People often ask me what exactly it is that I do here @ Malibu.  Often I pause and reply, "I carry things".  And that is exactly what I do. Amongst many other things, I carry things.  Keyboard pianos, baskets of fruit, bags of concrete, boxes of steak, sail boats, amplifiers, you name it, I've probably carried it.  In addition to build muscle, all this carrying leaves bruises of various colors and sizes all over my body.  I feel as though they are war wound trophies of sorts.  Ones I have earned the hard way.

We have 2 construction projects going on here @ camp, and when there are just 9 or 10 or you on the property, we all pitch in to help in various ways.  Yesterday, Nick and Stacy (2 of our interns) and I vacuumed up dry wall dust in one of the new houses.  For those of you who are new to the dry wall dust scene, let me elaborate.  Once the drywall is in, taped and mudded, a lovely, powder fine dust is left behind.  It covers everything.  So you sweep.  And scrape-where chunks of mud dropped.  Then you sweep again.  Then you shop-vac.  First the corners, edges, sills and outlets.  Then you shop-vac the entire floor until of the magical white powder is gone, because if any is left behind it could stir up and settle in the wet paint when the painter comes through.  And that my friends is no good.  When you work with dry wall dust, it gets in and on every part of you. 

My body is tired, my heart is full, our God is good.