The sound of an electric nail gun, a drill, a hammer.
The empty shell covered in plastic Beve and J start toward myriad times a day.
Dogs barking each morning when the knock comes signalling the arrival of men they are just beginning to know.
Sheetrock dust in the hallway, on the bookcases, in my chest--I can't keep up with it all.
Decisions every fifteen minutes:
Which tile, which tempered glass, how high the 'pony wall' (learning what a pony wall is!), which shower head, revising, revising--oh my gosh, am I like that woman in "Sleepless in Seattle"?
Remodeling is not for the faint of heart. I'm learning that.
But then I think of what God does.
Of the remodeling work He continues to do in my life.
Moving things around in my heart, revising, recreating,
yes, remodeling me so that I'm better suited for His purposes.
Made for His Kingdom,
More like Him.
In truth, remodeling is the never-ending story of our lives,
His work isn't done with sledge hammer and electric nail guns,
But with His love,
His Holy Spirit working in us by grace
to take what we are--the made-in-His-image-but-damaged-by-sin-selves that we are
and transforming it into His holy Likeness.
It's a mighty work,
a glorious work.
The work of the cross,
the work of resurrection
the work of LIFE every day we walk with Him,
every day we say, "I am yours, Lord, do with me what You will."
Yes, remodel me.
Incarnate me. That's the truth of it, Incarnate me.
As I live in this house for the next month,
let it be an earthly reminder of the holy work
of Incarnation. Make me flooded with Christ in me,
changed into glory.