When moving to Springfield, Kim and I spent months looking for the perfect house. We were looking for something a little different than usual. At least, that’s what some of the real estate agents told us. We were moving from an idyllic Montana home with a little land surrounded by lakes and mountains.
Though we knew we wouldn’t replicate the views, we were hopeful that we could at least replicate the rustic and peaceful feel. Not only that but after years of working on restoring houses in addition to ministry, I was hopeful to tackle a big remodeling project for our own family.
Finally, after looking at nearly fifty homes we found exactly what we wanted. Within 40 days of first seeing the home, I was ripping up carpet and tearing out cabinets. The remodel was underway. We were tackling the kitchen, living room, dining room, office, and half bathroom. Essentially the main floor. We had the `look’ we were going for with white washed walls and rich wood tones throughout. We wanted good flow and the ability to welcome a crowd so that they felt both at home and comfortable.
The design and outward appearance was easy to fix, but everything else was more difficult.
- Behind every new light fixture was old worn wiring.
- Beneath every piece of engineered hardwood was warped 3/4inch plywood.
- Veiled with the new white paint was oil stained, weathered cabinets.
- And, most difficult of all, underneath to the new faucets and sinks were rusty, corroded water valves.
One night after the new floors had been tediously installed over a long weekend, one of those rusty, corroded valves failed. As I walked into the kitchen for my morning coffee, instead of stable hickory under my feet I was greeted with squishy sponges. There were so many things that had gone wrong up to that point, but that was the worst. I was both distraught and furious at the same time. All the work I had put in to that point, and the whole kitchen floor needed torn out and reinstalled again. I just wanted to give up. Leave it a disaster. Keep eating dinner in the garage for the rest of our lives.
Before and after around the fireplace:
Through the whole renovation, I was teaching a class on Philippians. The first chapter opens with Paul praying for his beloved church in Philippi. His prayer is poignant and perfect for a person renovating a house,
“In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus,” (Philippians 1:4-6).
I might’ve wanted to be done with those floors and that whole renovation at that point, but Paul reminded me God is not done with his renovation of me either. He’s got the grand design planned out. It will be beautiful when the day of Christ comes, but, for now, I’ve got a lot of corrosion for his Spirit to fix. I’ve got worn wiring that needs revamped and a hard heart that still needs softened. I’m assured though that God won’t give up on me till the works completely done, and as much as I can’t wait to see my house fully finished, I can’t wait even more to see what his final work on me looks like.
