“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.
But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” ― C.S. Lewis,
I think for the most part He might be past the ‘getting the drains right and stopping the leaks’ phase of the renovation.
But then again, maybe not.
I get the impression that He is not going to be satisfied with only one new wing. And an extra floor. There is still an abundance of work that is going on inside of me.
To be honest, I am not always able to appreciate why certain things have had to happen, are still happening and have yet to happen.
But as time passes, I am letting go. Learning to trust. Accepting that it is all part of His plan for me. And embracing an attitude of gratitude.
Perhaps some of you are where I am these days.
Being rebuilt too.
Feeling that same kind of remodeling sensation.
Developing an awareness of an intentional, internal renovation.
For certain, this is an ongoing process that can leave clutter. Scatter your focus. Misplace some of your trusted tools and talents. And unsettle your demeanor.
For the most part, I am “ok” with all of this.
Not “ok” like, “whatever”. Far from that.
But “ok” as in I am getting used to it. Learning more than I ever imagined. Growing into this tenant/landlord relationship.
Beginning to get a glimmer of what I might look like once this phase of the project is completed. And wondering who I will become once He finishes.
But I do have to confess.
From time to time, and more often than I care to admit, this renovation process totally stresses me out.
It starts out as a simmering anxiety. Soon, I feel the fear begin to well up inside. And then, for no apparent reason, it just spews out in all directions. As hurt. A bruised ego. Selfish pride. Diminished self.
Sometimes the venting is directed at all the innocents around me. Other times, unmercifully towards myself in destructive thoughts, words and deeds.
And, finally, I train my aim on Him.
But as anyone should do when they have a disagreement with their best friend, I speak my piece.
Not just when i hit my knees.
But to or from work. Cutting the grass. Watching the sun come up. Or during a walk. Places and times where it can be just He and I.
Before I even get there, he already sees the simmering anxiety. Senses my fears. And weathers the anger. Taking the worst I can offer. No matter what.
And always comes back for more.
Little by little, with great effort, patience and faith, I am trying my best to get past the self-generated drama and aggrandizing behaviors that I allow to become a part of this venture.
And foist upon others.
While those around me may beg to differ,I never think I have all of the answers.
But I do think I have earned some wisdom to share throughout His renovation process.
I better understand what He wants it all to look like.
And despite the mess, it absolutely feels like home to me.
So since He holds the permit, I will stay out-of-the-way and be content to let the master builder do His work.
Because after all, the body was meant to be a temple.