Deconstruction is hard...

As I sit comfortably in a nice, cool living room in a beautiful, fully finished home, I do feel a little guilty.  As I posted just a little while ago, we are in the midst of restoring our very own little farmhouse (with lots of 'potential').  Right now we are smack in the middle of the deconstruction phase.  And let me tell you there is a lot to demo.

Yet, as I sit here in comfort and blessedly using the wifi, the Hubs is currently 'roughing it' by living in the house while tearing it apart.  He's got his tent and a little kitchen area set up in the living room (we won't get into the bathroom situation, but he does have a solar shower).  He doesn't mind at all.  He even kind of enjoys it.  That helps mitigate my guilt (I'm house-sitting for friends while he roughs it and Chas is at Singing School).

Today, I went out to visit and help where I could.  As I looked around, I was terrified (and not just because of the bugs buzzing around outside).  I couldn't help but think of all that the Hubs was tearing up and how awful it all looked.  I knew that this was going to be a lot of work and that gutting a house was never pretty.  But this looked worse that I had imagined.

This is the kitchen.

I knew there was a lot of work to be done and a lot that had to be torn away (eventually, the entire kitchen is going to be completely removed from the house and redone).  Knowing was one thing, seeing it in progress was something completely different.

The is room was formerly known as the bathroom.

So, I had my freakout moment and the Hubs sat me down and began talking to me.  I wasn't hysterical, but I was kind of having a meltdown like a 2-year old.  He asked why I was upset.  I told him that it just seemed like house was in a horrible state and that it was never going to get done.  Things were so much worse than we had thought and planned.  We'd never get done and never be in budget (told ya I had a flair for the dramatic).

Random detritus in current bedroom #2 (eventually to become pantry & utility room)

As I unloaded, the Hubs just smiled and told me that this wasn't near as bad as it looked.  Yes, there was a large mess (the dumpster was just unloaded, so we can get this cleaned up a bit!), and things looked worse, but that was just one step of the process.  And it is a very hard step.  You see, since the entire house isn't a lost cause, we have to strategically remove the rotten and damaged parts, not just destroy the entire structure.  But once that is done, we'll rebuild and repair the damaged areas and building always goes faster than deconstructing.

I have reflected on that this afternoon.  It makes a lot of sense and I understand why it's the case.  But does this just work for houses?  Isn't it hard for us to strategically cut out the rotten or diseased portions of our life?  Doesn't it look messy and seem like nothing good will ever come from it?  But how wonderful is the rebuilding stage!  It's amazing how once the damaged parts are removed and we allow God's Holy Spirit to come in and fill those spots and begin that work of remaking us, things begin to take shape again.

I know that we have a long road ahead of us.  It may not be pleasant and it will be hard.  However, I have to remember not to just focus on the mess that's before me, but to look at the entire picture.  I think I need to do this in all areas of my life, as well.  It's easy to focus on what's being removed and not focus on what is being built  That's why we must keep our eye on the prize that is set before us and encourage one another so that when one is struggling, there are others there to help carry the burden.

Got Perspective?

The Hubs used to teach a class called Biblical Leadership for future military officers. He taught the class for over two years. Early on, a young man came in and told a story. 

He was in training, doing calisthenics in a sand pit while being sprayed with a fire hose (it is much more intense than it sounds). During this session, he was maxed out. Tired, hungry, homesick, low. It's kind of the point of this kind of military training. They break you down and then rebuild you. However, this kid was on the verge of just quitting, walking away from all of it. But as he was thinking this, he looked up and saw a rainbow in the water being sprayed on him and his fellow officer candidates.

It reminded him of God's promise not to destroy the world with water again and that made him realize that he would not be destroyed there, no matter what the DI's threw at him. It was a lesson in perspective. 

Due to the transient nature of that base, new candidates cycled in and out pretty often but that story remained. Those that heard the original candidate tell the story would continue to ask for prayer for perspective each and every time we met. As they graduated and moved on and new people came in, the hold-overs would ask for prayers for perspective and every so often the Hubs would tell the story again. To remind those who were being torn down that it was okay. They wouldn't be destroyed there. 

It was one of the main lessons we learned during our time at that base. But oh, how quickly we forget! It was only 3 years ago that we left that duty station. 

And, yet, here I sit. Exhausted, tired, and low. We've had a rough couple of days. We are in the process of gutting and remodeling a 100+ year old farmhouse. Because of this, we've moved almost all of our household goods into storage and are going to be nomads this summer. (At least Chas & I, Hubs will be working on the house) 

So as I sit in a small room that is filled with luggage, a futon, and Chas' sleeping bag on the floor, I'm tempted to lament and feel awful. I am tempted to start the "Woe is me" lines. 

But I have to remember my perspective. I have to keep my eye light, as we're told in Matthew 6:22. I am blessed. We have a house. We have some amazing friends who are letting us stay with them (such a blessing!). I am going to visit my parents for the first time since Christmas. There is so much more positive going on than negative. 

As if God knew that I would be tempted to let the exhaustion and sorrow take over, He gave me this Saturday afternoon:

Now, I just have to remind myself of His promises and remember my joy!