We are in the midst of some minimal remodeling work in our home. A portion of our floors needs some TLC from all the life that’s been lived on them.
My husband commented yesterday evening as I snapped a couple of times, “I don’t think you would survive a full remodel.” He’s right. I can barely survive this.
My day had been spent emptying shelves and cabinets where a way needed to be made for floor sanders to meander. In addition to thinking of what needed to be moved, I also had to figure out what we’d need in the third of the house where we would be living while the remaining two thirds would be inaccessible. I was thinking for him, me, our son, and our dog. I was thinking of not being able to access the laundry, the pantry, the dishwasher, the sink, the stove, the china, the food, the detergent, the paper products, the doors, the garage, the toilet plunger, the coffee pot, the answering machine, the headache meds….
In all my thinking I realized a few things:
- We have too much stuff. (Note to self: finish Jen Hatmaker’s 7 and take it to heart.)
- I like a clutter-free life. (Do I really need to hold onto things that I don’t use? It sure is a pain to move it all around to make way for change a little home improvement!)
- Living in a smaller space is doable, but I can’t fathom families of 3 or more living in two rooms…total…for years…for life. How do they do it?! Where does one go to get away “from it all”?!
- I am not a patient person when my “normal” life is interrupted, even for the blessing of being able to take care of some repair work.
- This reminds me all over why I am not a happy camper, literally.
At the heart of my weariness with this situation is that I know for a fact that there is more on the other side of those plastic opaque door coverings blocking my view of beauty in the works and blocking my progress of steps into the other corners of my home.
Then it occurred to me that my experiencing this small redo parallels my struggle to live life on this earth all the while knowing that something better awaits beyond the curtain through which I cannot see. I think all us humans struggle with the thoughts of running out of enough to keep us going healthily and with energy and the means to make it for however much longer God permits.
My Carpenter is busy making my home ready. Illness, pain, financial adjustments, and the occasional “blues” are those momentary light afflictions that will not endure forever. They are the two-roomed life where I live waiting for the heavenly more to be birthed in eternity where I will dwell.
This earth is just a temporary home where pipes burst and wood rots, where repairs are necessary to keep us living that life with which we’ve grown accustomed as we wait for no longer needing to repair and replace, reduce and reuse.
What are you experiencing in your two-room life today that wearies you at the core of your being? Join me in calling on the One who can bring joy and restore happiness in the midst of great discomfort and minor inconvenience as we live our lives yearning for a better day that He has placed in our eternal-yearning spirits.