“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
Mr. Lewis is a most skilled tradesman when it comes to building an image for his readers. Compelling thoughts perfectly constructed to give one pause. A greater appreciation for a much grander design.
So, I did it.
Imagined myself as “a living house”.
For the most part, I think He is just past the ‘getting the drains right” phase. However, stopping the leaks’ in this renovation project is yet ongoing. He must have noticed my foundation needed some attention as well.
And just as Mr. Lewis asserts, I can attest unequivocally, that He does seem to be knocking this old house about at times. It surely do hurt abominably when He does. A sensation akin to the beneficence of growing pains.
Don’t think He is gonna be satisfied with only one new wing either. Not to suggest that I merit even one, deserve the status of two or have earned the right to any such elevation in my standing.
It is just that I am hard to live with sometimes.
So I have to believe He is merely using good judgement and is planning ahead. To afford Himself “space” when I start to get “like that”.
I sense His work in me especially now. At this very moment. His tireless, unconditional efforts to undo my shoddy additions and rebuild Mark.
Perhaps if I had been better able to embrace and accept why certain things have had to happen, are happening and have yet to happen – the permit process would have gone smoother. With greater trust in the Builder, maybe my thoughts, words and deeds would have been up to code. And inspections – less an ordeal.
I am still learning how to let go more. Fear less. Lean into His embrace when things look bleak. And simply trust. Knowing to the center of my core that all of this has been drawn up by Him. Architecturally sound designs made just for me.
Makes perfect sense,
He is – after all – THE master carpenter.
I will admit, from time to time I do get angry with the pace and timing of His renovations. Misinterpreting the blue prints. All the clutter, dust and disarray. I then feel the need to speak my peace and may even give Him the “what for. ”
He just takes it all in stride. Listens. Loves. Then continues on with the task at hand; His work in me. Onward to the next phase of His construction. Always framed with deliberate, tender and loving care.
His grace has finally opened my heart, eyes and ears.
It took 58 plus years, but I have found great joy being in residence with Him. Me as His tenant. He as my landlord. In a lease extending into perpetuity.
So what say you Master Builder?
Go ahead and knock this old house around as you see fit.
Go for it!
Don’t be content with a little cottage.
Run up those towers God.
Rebuild me however you choose.