SUSAN TYNER | CONTRIBUTOR

Never go to the grocery store hungry and never let your husband look at Zillow if you’re feeling bored.

The move from Mississippi to Texas had been a big one. Besides the loss of small-town connections, our usually chaotic house of seven finally entered the empty nest phase, and Lee and I found ourselves idling. Listless. In a word, we felt a little blah. In this season of unusual boredom, Lee was Zillow-surfing and landed on a listing in a neighborhood we stalked on weekend drives. The tree lined streets boasted sidewalks with families walking their dogs. Grand homes and cottages looked well-tended despite their age. We toured the house Lee found and decided it would be perfect once we did some construction on it.

So, out of a little loneliness and a lot of naivete, we decided to put our house (a perfectly beautiful house on a really lovely street, by the way) on the market. I knew just because I wanted this house, that did not mean I would get it. Feeling like a little girl asking my earthly Daddy for a new toy, I sat down with my Father and boldly prayed for this house. He and I both knew it was not a necessity—more of a wish. And, I knew if this was a terrible idea, He would never give me something that wasn’t good for me. I trusted Him to answer yes or no.

He said yes.

And, it was a quick yes. Buyers snatched up our house before it hit the market. We bought our new home for lower-than-asking-price. We hired a contractor. Sure, we’d heard the horror stories of renovations of old houses, but this was God’s gift to us. And while we knew better than to overlook the peeling paint and crooked walls for the hundred-year-old charm, we saw green lights everywhere. The inconveniences of a renovation were small prices to pay to unwrap this good gift, right?

I say, emphatically, no.

Instead of moving a wall here or there, we practically gutted the house. Over the following months, cracks became issues. Deadlines became laughable. Actual costs became disasters. Was this what I asked for? My dreams of tea on the front porch dissolved as we lived in our basement, workers banging overhead month after month. I remembered my childlike prayer for this gift and wondered if God had played a trick on me. Was mine a story of asking for a fish and getting a snake?

While my house was in disarray, my soul wasn’t doing so well either. Depression moved in. Fear over money bulldozed my peace. Tough providences not even related to our house project piled on more weight to crack our trust in God. If this cute house on 6^th Avenue was His idea of a gift, remind me to keep my mouth shut next time!

Then, I realized I was not the only one with a project on my hands. God had his own renovation in mind when He gave me mine— and my heart was even more of a challenge than a 1920’s house! God tore out spiritual walls to make room for better ones. His Spirit discovered discontentment leaking and warping my thankfulness. While I could pull off a smile at church, He saw past my façade to the termites of anxiety eating away. And, just like my construction project, God’s work was taking longer and costing more than I ever imagined. I wondered, does God answer prayers for good gifts in ways that feel this bad? John Newton’s verses came to mind…

I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith and love and every grace;
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek more earnestly His face.

 ‘Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And He, I trust, has answered prayer,
But it has been in such a way
As almost drove me to despair. [1]

But Jesus is not the typical Gift Giver nor Homeowner. He was not scared to take on such a disaster-ridden project. Better than any HGTV host, He saw past my sin, trauma, and worldliness and got excited about the beauty only His tools could create. And, just like our Texas fixer upper will never really be finished, my soul will be His constant project, too, requiring a lot more work until He completes what He began in me (Phil. 1:6). Until then, He is content to live in a soul under construction as His Spirit slowly changes mine to reflect the character of the Master Designer.

Most of all, Jesus was not surprised by the exorbitant cost of His renovation project. He knew to live with me would cost Him all He had, and He willingly paid it with the cash of His blood (Heb. 2:2).

We are out of the basement now. We sip drinks and wave as neighbors walk by or even stop to chat. It is exactly what I asked for, even though the unwrapping of my Father’s gift threw me. We have a house-shaped scar that has cured us of boredom, and we don’t Zillow-surf anymore. However, now that we have “sugar-swapping” friends and participate in the neighborhood’s legendary holiday traditions, we feel much more settled here in Texas. When I walk through the house and the sun pours through my windows, my heart feels at home. Sure, this renovation cost much more than we budgeted and took longer than we planned but those reno scars are fading as Lee and I look at each other and say, “This is exactly why we did this!”

Jesus looks up at me from His construction project and says, “You’re exactly why I did it, too.”

[1] John Newton, “I Asked the Lord That I Might Grow”

Photo by Karl Solano on Unsplash