I’ve been wanting to turn this into a blog post for several days, but I’ve been too busy to get my swirling thoughts typed here.
However, as I spun my cake decorators’ turntable this afternoon, and angled my tools to create the desired look, I had time to think and reflect… now the cakes are done so I can exhale, relax, and write what’s been on my heart.
Last weekend was 6 months since I first walked into the church that now feels like home… barely knowing anyone, and completely terrified, but somehow convinced this was the right thing to do.
You know, I had no idea then just how much good would come from asking God for the courage to step out in faith.
I reflected on that last week, and praised God for His faithfulness in guiding me, but didn’t really have a blog post in mind.
Until Friday evening, when my youth group and a few of our church people were … well, quite literally, tearing apart the church basement.
There are some renovations needed, and as plans were made, the list grew.
So, on the last day of school, teachers and students emptied the classrooms completely, in preparation for the work bee that evening. By midnight, all the shelves were gone, trim had disappeared, insulation was removed, some sections of wall were only bare frames, lights were being rewired, and old drywall was removed. Not to mention the endless sweeping, and all the plastic we girls taped up to protect surfaces from the spray painting that will be done.
It really wasn’t recognizable as the school that it had been that morning, and I asked one student who had come with his dad for the evening, “Can you believe the last day of school was in here today?”
His answer was profound, as children so often are without realizing it.
“Well, it feels strange. I thought it would be exciting to tear our classrooms apart, and it is, but…”
“But it’s sad to tear up the place where go many good memories were just made?” I asked.
“Well, kind of, yeah… and it’s so empty. It doesn’t even feel like our school, and it’s just so odd!”
I assured him that by September, they’ll be ready to have lots of good times in a classroom that will feel “new” after all the renovations are complete.
His eyes sparkled with anticipation at that thought and he said, “that’s right! I can’t wait! I hope it’ll look really nice.”
Then, more pensive, he added, “At least, I think it will… it’s hard to imagine right now though while it’s such a mess.”
I reminded him of the things that will be improved and redone, and his enthusiasm returned. “Yeah! I think it’ll look real nice when it’s all done,” and he hurried off to see what else he could do. Destroying classrooms is an adventure, after all!
And I, sweeping up the constant piles of dust and debris, thought about our conversation.
6 months ago, I knew my life didn’t totally fit me… but it was all I knew. It was familiar and comfortable.
Yet I couldn’t stay there. I needed to move on, and I knew it was time. But I couldn’t reach for the new without stepping out of the old.
You know, I was incredibly afraid of walking into a new church and hoping to find it home.
It felt like I was laying down so much – risking relationships with all the people I’d known and love, for relationships I didn’t know if I’d ever build.
But God proved faithful to work it all out for me, and I’ve been able to make many beautiful new friendships as well as keep the familiar old ones.
And, the layout of my life is different.
It doesn’t look like the life I was so familiar with and afraid to leave behind a few months ago. But some things from before are still in their places, and everything is brighter and nicer than ever.
Sometimes, adding to your life means giving every part to God first, so He can remove what’s not needed and return what is still valuable to its place in your life.
By letting God empty you out, you allow Him to work and reconstruct you according to His perfect blueprint.
So, to the one reading this: this is my encouragement for you. If your life feels torn apart, upside down, or totally empty right now, and you wish for the familiar sights of before… keep trusting the Master Architect.
The renovating process takes faith in the end result, patience, and a lot of trust that things are going to end up better, even while they’re visibly being torn apart.
But remind yourself of this truth: God will not ask you to lay something down without putting something more beautiful in its place.
So trust Him, doubting heart.
By what He has done in my life, and for countless others out of unknown circumstances, I truly can say that His renovations are never without a purpose.
And I think your life will look real nice when He’s all done.
Notes from My Heartsong 