I just so happened to marry a fix-it guy who thinks it’s fun to spend our weekends slowly renovating our home. The first time he suggested we “scrape off the ceiling popcorn”, I was incredibly confused. Is that allowed?
But, as I’ve found out, with time and being married to my opposite, I have grown in my capacities to such a level that I can actually decipher what odd-looking tool he’s asking for and I can hand-trowel a wall with the best of them.
We’ve rooted up old tile and laid new floors, textured and painted, constructed elaborate tree forts, knocked down walls and created new ones and I’ve grown to be incredibly familiar with our local hardware store. I no longer have panic attacks when he cuts a hole in a wall. He’s quite adept at patching it and I’ve seen it so many times, I’m fairly confident I could manage it myself. (Although, I’m happy to leave it to him and sit down with a good book…just saying.)
And in the meantime, God’s been working through these renovations to make some changes within me as well. We rip apart our home, slowly and with hard work and intentionality, in order to make it better reflect our tastes and preferences. We live here…working and resting…playing and crying…this is our central location.
So it’s become in my walk with God, that over the years, He’s smoothed plenty of rough edges and retextured the walls of my heart. He’s painted over and knocked down walls and installed lovely new windows so that as time moves onward I actually reflect more and more of Who He is. He’s so intentional and willing to put in the work because He’s chosen to live here…not just once a week for church. He’s not an occasional visitor that I have to start tidying up for. My heart is where He kicks up His feet and relaxes and tells me about His day and listens to me tell Him about mine. It’s home. And it wouldn’t be home without Him here.
Now, just as my house is under perpetual construction, so am I. Even now, I look up to see a long wall in our living room awaiting a final coat of paint. And I see our fireplace that my hubby dreams of ripping down and completely overhauling someday. We’re not done and, I suspect that we likely never will be. (I’ve finally figured out that this was a silent clause in my marriage contract…”I promise to stand by your side with hammer, paintbrush and trowel in hand, till death do us part.”)
And just the same way, I know God will continue His work in me, just as He hopes to work in you! Don’t worry about tidying up before you open the door to His knock. He’s got His toolkit and He’s up to the task.
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