Dilapidated Insides

 

Dilapidated Insides

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” Galations 5:22
 

　
After forty years of life, God finally “put me in my place.” Of course I think to myself, why wait so long, Lord? But the realization that He is who he is, quickly silences my argument. How blessed I am that he didn’t wait any longer! You see, for many years I believed that I was a "good" Christian. On the outside, I’m sure others believed it too. It was important for me to convey my goodness to others. But who was I kidding?

I was and still am a devoted Christian. I spend time with my Jesus in prayer, almost daily (I say almost, because, let’s be real, my day pulls me in many directions the moment my feet hit the floor!). In addition to my prayer walk, I read my Bible very regularly.  When I feel convicted, I scribble those convictions on paper and pray about them. I attend church and even volunteer with our children’s ministry. I love my God and his son Jesus. Truthfully, He loves me even more. And because He loves me so much more, He finally “put me in my place.”

One morning, I woke from a dream; a dream very similar to others I had in the past. In my dream, my husband and I are in the market to buy a house. Our house hunt begins with many different styles of homes. After a long day of searching, our realtor finally drives us up a hill where a very grand and beautiful house stood. I look over at my husband and whisper, “Could we afford this house?” My husband shrugs his shoulders and reaches for my hand, giving it a hopeful squeeze. The view from this house is breathtaking. Again, how could we afford such a house? It is a big house, with many rooms. We begin our tour and I quickly understand why this home is in our price range. It needs some work. The carpet is mismatched from room to room. The walls are dark and dingy, paint peeling from every corner. The floors are lifted in areas and holes are placed randomly on the walls. As we continue our tour, I start to see potential. “I want this house” I tell my husband. But my husband, scared-off by the magnitude of the work, convinces me that it’s too dilapidated and not anything we could take on. We walk away from my potential “dream home.” And then I wake up...

Year after year, another dilapidated grandiose house dream. What could these dreams mean? I immediately think that perhaps we will find ourselves face to face with a ‘fixer upper.’ Are we handy enough to restore it? Are we brave enough to take it on?  Reality sets in and I think to myself, we're just not that handy.

How surprised I was when I clearly heard the Lord (inaudibly, of course) say, “You, are that house.” Paralyzed with this newfound revelation, I finally concede. It’s me.  I'm dilapidated. I’m a ‘fixer-upper.‘ Humble pie doesn’t even come close to how I felt. What do I do now? How do I begin to restore and clean up my insides? Where do I even begin?

A few Sundays later, while sitting in church, my pastor begins his message by speaking about restoring old homes and how we are like these dilapidated houses. I sat there in amazement. Sure, this message was for everyone, but I felt like it was meant specifically for me.  I sat there wondering how many rooms need repairing? To my surprise, the number nine shouts at me in my mind. I question God, “Really? Nine? Are you sure not five or something? Why nine?” But as hard as I try to conjure up a smaller number, none come up. I continued listening to the message that morning, perspiration finding every wish way to escape.  Up on the screen were the Fruit of the Spirit....all nine of them!

 Fruit of the Spirit; this is where I begin.  This is where I start restoring my dilapidated insides. “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.” Galations 5:22. I take this all in and wonder which one I should focus on first. It seemed as though God answered, “Start with love.” And so I do. I start with love and watch God slowly begin to restore my insides.

I look forward to dreaming about a grand house on a hill with an immaculate interior. Where the breeze gently blows the curtains to and fro; inviting all who come near.  Where light shines so bright, illuminating every drab corner.  Where plush carpeting invites you to walk about this grandiose home; taking in the pleasures of it.  Where splashes of color sing and dance on the walls.  Where sweet fragrances permeate the air.  Where grand furniture whispers, “sit and rest a while.”

Until I dream that dream, I will always be grateful that God saw potential in my dilapidated insides. Enough potential that He would say, “I want this one. There's so much potential here.” I will always be grateful that He gave me nine rooms to start my restoration...and grateful, that after forty years, He finally “put me in my place.”

 Tina