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If so, I’d like to meet this kind.<\/p>\n
I simply did not embody grace and patience and looked more like this:<\/p>\n
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This is a picture of me shaking my finger at my sick husband when he\u00a0suggested\u00a0I do a fourteenth coat on the trim we were painting. \u00a0He says I only had to paint two coats when all was said and done, but I’m pretty sure I painted fourteen.<\/p>\n
When our realtor first showed me the house, \u00a0it took about five minutes for me to say, “Nope. \u00a0But thanks for trying.”\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>I just didn’t like what I saw. \u00a0It needed quite a bit of updating, the carpet smelled, there was pink tile, and after looking for the right house for a couple of years, I was waiting for that “This is it!” moment – that \u00a0moment when the heavens open, light shines down on the house even though it’s raining, and angels start singing Kenny Loggins, “This Is It.” \u00a0Then I’d know. \u00a0But I definitely didn’t have that moment when I first saw this house. \u00a0No Kenny Loggins, no angels…just smelly, stained carpet. And pink tile.<\/p>\n I snuck in late to Bible Study after the showing, and the women sitting next to me leaned over and whispered, “How was the house?” \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n “Not for us.” \u00a0<\/em>Because I didn’t like what I saw. \u00a0And it smelled. \u00a0And there was pink tile.<\/p>\n But my husband wanted to see it, so we went back later that afternoon. \u00a0 I was frustrated by what I felt like was a waste of time for both me and the realtor, mostly because I was adamant that this house was not the one. \u00a0After pointing out the multiple reasons as to why we shouldn’t like the house, I was sure my husband would turn and say something like, “You’re right. \u00a0You’re always right<\/em>. \u00a0I mean, really. \u00a0Why did I even schedule this showing because this is just not the one.” \u00a0And that’s about when he turned and said:<\/p>\n “This is it.” \u00a0\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n He didn’t sing it, but I could see it in his eyes. \u00a0It was the same look he had when he took me to see what was going to be the future home for our church. \u00a0There was so much excitement in his voice when he revealed this:<\/p>\n To encourage his excitement, I said something like, “What the heck?!”<\/p>\n But as we walked through the building, he saw past the crumble and decay, and I could tell he was envisioning a beautifully restored church as he pointed out the nuances in each room and how the space could be potentially be used. \u00a0Tearing down the building wasn’t going to happen; this old school-house was going to be\u00a0restored into something\u00a0beautiful. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n And we had the same experience walking through the house together. \u00a0I could feel my excitement level rise as he pointed out what we could do to restore various parts of the house, how we could freshen and update rooms. \u00a0So I was mildly interested when we sent in our contract. \u00a0I half-heartedly wrote a letter to the owners, knowing there were already other contracts on the house, and then I cried angry tears when the realtor called and said, “It’s yours<\/em>!”<\/p>\n I cried angry tears. \u00a0<\/em>Oh, for the love of ingratitude. \u00a0Crying was my actual response. \u00a0My husband was on the phone with the realtor when she said, “Is everyone excited?”\u00a0<\/em>and he looked over at me standing in the corner like a four-year old, letting go of every bit of self-constraint and dignity I had, and over dramatically crying out, “What have we doooooone!” \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Oh, my goodness. \u00a0My husband is a saint. \u00a0Because I just would have stomped on me.<\/p>\n Making things beautiful is not a particular gift of mine, so I followed my husband’s direction when it came to some of the small renovations. \u00a0Paint cans were open, smelly carpet was pulled up, sinks were pulled out, and many working hands walked in and out of our home for several weeks. \u00a0At one point a handyman stopped by to take a look at our broken oven. \u00a0Apologizing for the mess everywhere, he looked at me and said, “Ah. \u00a0You got a money pit! \u00a0You won’t be finished with this for a long time<\/em>!” \u00a0And then he laughed. \u00a0And then I punched him.<\/p>\n Once we got passed that, he asked if I was enjoying the process of renovating the house.<\/p>\n I enjoyed the process about as much as I enjoyed knee surgery. \u00a0So I thank the Lord for the Chip and Joanna’s of the world who do this kind of work and actually enjoy it, and I fully accept that this is an area\u00a0in which I have not been gifted. \u00a0It’s knee surgery.<\/p>\n And yet, one by one the rooms were transformed into something beautiful for our family. \u00a0A perfect space for friends, church members, and neighbors. \u00a0A comfortable place for holidays, birthdays, and even the daily routine. \u00a0When we sat around the dinner table for the first time in our new house, I was struck by how ungrateful I had been during the last several months; my complaining over pink tiles, broken appliances, and weird smells became all consuming. \u00a0Renovations or not, we have a place to use for the glory of God.<\/p>\n But it doesn’t smell anymore (and the pink tile is gone…HALLELUJAH), \u00a0and I’m so thankful for the transformation. I’m thankful my husband could see past what was right in front of us. \u00a0 When I was walking in the neighborhood for the first time, \u00a0I was overcome with thanksgiving for all God has provided, and I kept repeating the phrase from Psalm 23: “He restores my soul…” \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n He Restores Our Souls<\/strong><\/p>\n He renews, He rebuilds, He replenishes…He restores. \u00a0I’m broken; my sin is uglier than the old school building and the smelly, stain-filled carpet. \u00a0But He restores. \u00a0<\/em>And not in the way that paint provides temporary updating to a room. \u00a0It’s neither a general, physical restoration, but it’s a deep and lasting restoration that comes from the nourishment of His Word. \u00a0Just like the green pastures satisfy the sheep; just like the lush grass abundantly provides for them, so our Savior restores and renews our souls.<\/p>\n Is your soul downcast? \u00a0 Are you anxious within? \u00a0\u00a0Put your hope in God. \u00a0<\/em>He restores. \u00a0He renews. \u00a0But our hearts have to be open and willing; our hands can’t clench the sins\u00a0we know are prevalent but struggle to confess; \u00a0our arms can’t be folded in defiance wondering relentlessly if God actually cares.<\/p>\n Instead, open your heart to His restoration. \u00a0\u00a0Lord, penetrate my heart with the truths in your Word; give patience and desire to read it and study it. \u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n Instead, open your hands to His restoration. \u00a0Lord, by your strength unclench my fist and give me humility where I burst with pride. <\/em><\/p>\n Instead, reach out your arms to Jesus who restores even the most fearful spirit. \u00a0Lord, I fear troubled waters. \u00a0Help me walk in your thirst-quenching presence, knowing that you satisfy the deepest longings of my soul.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n I’m amazed by the hands that restore, renew, and turn what would be trash into something beautiful to behold, like the transformation of our church building:<\/p>\n Thank the Lord He sees past our broken souls. \u00a0Thank the Lord He doesn’t wince at the foul smell and shudder at the amount of sin. \u00a0Instead, He sees a brand new creation. \u00a0Sin doesn’t have its victory over us, grace does. \u00a0 He loves His children beyond measure, and because of that love we’re transformed, we’re renewed, and\u00a0we’re restored into something beautiful.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We renovated. \u00a0We moved. It’s so easy to write those words, but really. \u00a0Really. \u00a0Moving\u00a0is a pain. \u00a0Renovating is a … <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/katiepolski.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/05\/old-trinity-.jpg?resize=535%2C401&ssl=1\")
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