contentment

I'm just gonna be upfront and say things are shaken up a little. We're still moving forward with living here and working on the house... but I'm still struggling with how to put those posts out there. They're coming. But my heart is busting out with these thoughts. I'm posting several different posts today, because I didn't want to bombard you with all of this for weeks on end. I feel like I need to write it, though. I want it to be part of this blog. In the big picture, posts like this one really won't make up much of the whole. But, I want them to be there.

We are still working on the house.

Lord, let it be with new eyes.

If you're clueless as to what on earth I'm talking about, try reading here and here.

So, yeah... contentment.

Can I show you my living room floor?



I'm not sure I've shown it to you quite like this before. Honestly, because it embarasses me.

Because I'm a spoiled brat.



But, here it is. Yes, it's hardwood. Yes, it is mildly trashed. You may not be able to tell from the photos - there are parts sticking up a bit... the top finish is peeling off.

Can I be content with that?

See, it's not especially difficult to feel "content" when we've just done something new to the house. When we've taken out something beat and ugly. Or we've finished a room we've been working on for months. It's easy then to fool myself into thinking I'm being truly content. Easy to say, "Yes, of course, Jesus is enough. Silly question! It isn't the bright, white shiny trim... of course not."

It's much easier for me to see things for what they are, though, when the things are withheld. When I leave the big, new house and move to the smaller, semi-beat down house. When this is my floor... when I fully realize that it's one of the very last things we'll get to project-wise, which means we may never get to it if we don't stay here longer than 5 more years... it may always be my floor in this house.

Can I be content? Can my heart be content with living in that torn up house I moaned and groaned about just a handful of posts back?





This is my floor.

I mopped it the other day. In an attempt to learn to love it.



To be thankful for it.

And, it was good. I mopped it and mopped it. And I thought about those faithful living in dirt and filth... praising God from their hearts. And I thought about all of the many, many physical comforts I enjoy. The safety of this neighborhood. The food in our fridge.

Maybe even to some of you, you're thinking this floor is still better than holes. Or mildew. Or no floor.

Spoiled.

Brat.



And I looked across the room at my baby. My sweet, precious baby, playing cheerfully on the blanket while I worked. I thanked God for her. For all my family. My church. So many blessings.

Later on that day, we made a massive tent on that floor. I thanked Him for happy, healthy children.



O, my heart, why do you insist on complaining in the face of all this goodness?








And then, WHAM! Right between the eyes.

I realized... what if even all of this were gone? What if fire took even your beat up floor? What if, because of sickness, the baby were gone? All of the children? In the heart-wrenching, gut-tearing pain of those moments... could I say it?

Would Jesus be enough for me then? Like Job?

Oh, Lord. Be enough.

Thanksgiving is so good, so right. It does help fight against discontent. It does turn our eyes away from what we want and show us all that we already have.



But, it can't stop there... the end cannot be just thanking the Father for my earthly blessings. Because they're not necessarily always going to be there. What happens to my contentment then? I have to go deeper. I must go to Jesus. Thank Him for the food, the clothing, the provision, the wonderful children, the blessing of my husband, this house... but the only thing that will never change, the only thing that is lasting, isn't really a thing at all. I must ultimately let my greatest thanksgiving, my deepest contentment be in Christ Jesus.

And that is proving to be much more of a battle than I had thought. I've labelled these posts "the struggle". Because this is a battle... a struggle for my heart's affections. I need to not only thank God for my blessings and for my ratty floor (which is also a blessing), but see beyond the floor, the children, my husband, and thank Him for Christ - unchangeable, unshakeable, everlasting - Christ.

The answer is not to stop taking care of my home, to hide in a cave, to stop loving my family because they aren't Jesus. But to love Jesus so much, to adore Him so completely, that He is enough. Come what may.

"Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." Phil. 4:11-13

it's not about the STUFF

Were you guys worried about me after that last post?

It's all good. I'm not depressed or giving myself 40 lashes. I don't believe in the concept of penance... that doing anything can atone for sin... that I can make some kind of payment or sacrifice to get right with God. There's only one way I can be made right with God, and that's through what Christ has done.

His payment.

His sacrifice on the cross.

And I'm forgiven. Seeing the need to repent from worldliness and discontent is a gift. A gift which leads to joy because it leads to Jesus.

So, how do you jump back into a house blog after a post like that? Well, you and I are both wondering :)

Before I attempt that, though, I want to make abundantly clear that I don't think physical things are wicked. Or even the enjoyment of physical things. {Hello, marriage!} There are ways to enjoy earthly gifts and blessings to God's glory. If I'm tripping you up on this, and you think I'm starting to sound like all earthly matter is from the devil, maybe I should point you to a couple of quick resources that explain things far better than my blabbering brain can.

The first is a short little book edited by CJ Mahaney called... appropriately... Worldliness. There is a chapter at the end dealing with this exact issue - how to enjoy the gifts we're given in this world to God's glory.

Secondly, there's a great book by John Piper called When I Don't Desire God. I'd say He wrote it to help out all the folk he completely depressed with the first book, Desiring God. If you've read it, you know what I mean, and you're chuckling a little bit.

Heathen.

Anyway, there's a chapter in the Piper book called "How to Weild the World in the Fight for Joy." Very good. Very good.

So, I'm not packing our family up to move to a cave and eat the blandest food possible in an attempt to hit some new height of holiness. The Spirit of God is ready and able to transform my heart right here... right now. Stuff isn't evil. Or wicked. Or causing me to be worldly or discontent. It's not the stuff. It's what my heart does with the stuff I have. And what my heart does with the stuff I want but can't have.

Not really about my circumstances. Completely about my heart.

"If Jesus is not enough, something is wrong."

I'm not going to post lots of pictureless, devotion-type posts. I just couldn't figure out a way to transition from bearing my heart to y'all to then posting pictures of my newly painted trim. Disconnect, anyone? So, bear with me a little while longer. I'll get to where this is all balanced out more... at least in writing. But, in my heart, it's gonna take some time.

but, do I ***know*** this?

Do you guys read Meg?

If you read Meg for any length of time, you love Meg. And if you read Meg and love Meg, chances are very, very good that you've come to love her family and... her home.

At least, that's how it's been for me.

Well, last week dear Megan made a big announcement. I read it. I read it again. I sat there, in front of my laptop with my mouth gaping wide open and my eyes in hazy, unblinking disbelief.

What?! How?! Why?!

What?!

I kid you not, I actually had to get up from the computer and leave the room. Why would Meg leave that house? How could she leave that house? Of course it's not my business, of course it's her life, of course I don't even know her, but how could she move????!!!

But I just had to deal with it. She was moving. Period.

Then she posted about syrup.

Off and on for the next three or four days, I would just stop and think... she's moving! And I would be a little sad. But, then I would think about her in the country, in her rental, and I would think about how fun and interesting it would be to see her make the new place home. Etcetera. I was feeling better, thinking about more pretty things to come.

Then she posted this.



And I realized some things. Some nasty, ugly things.

"we love our home but we don't want to love anything so much that we cannot leave it."

About me.

"we love our family....and that family can bond and love and grow stronger anywhere...not just this house."

"it's just a house.
this one or the farm or anywhere....it's just 'stuff' "

About my heart.

"but i am choosing in this new season of my life to focus on letting God show me the goodness of my life even without a granite countertop."

And I cried. Hard. That post made me see my heart, clinging so tightly to Meg's house. Over the next few days, realizing that I wasn't just clinging to Meg's house, but to the idea of Meg's house. I was afraid... of what might come my way. They just finished up their remodel. What was it? Seven years? And they just finished the last bathroom. What if? What if God called us to move away from our house, from this house - right after we finally finish the thing?

I realized how tightly I'm clinging to our work here. How tightly I'm clinging to the idea of this house all finished. The idea of a forever home. A forever home that I love, that I raise babies in, that grandbabies come home to. Tightly. clinging.

And it grieved me. It really grieved me. How is it, that after all these years of knowing, loving, following Christ I could still be so blindly clinging to the passing things of this short life? This earth?

God began to shake me a little. Make me see some ugly things.

Then, I suppose because Meg's move wasn't enough to really drive it home, I believe He worked out circumstances so that I also read this. And all her posts tagged with "renting". Her family moved, too. On purpose. They left the dream because they knew the dream had ensnared them. They left this...

Source: gallery.apartmenttherapy.com via Jacci on Pinterest

For pity's sake!

I read and I sobbed. I pored over passages like 1 John 2:15-17.



It is passing away. All of it. It will not last. I cannot take it with me.

But, worst of all, I have allowed the things of this world to dull my satisfaction in Christ Alone. I have sought happiness from Him... and things. I have delighted in Him... and things. I have mixed up Jesus and new trim and Etsy purchases as sources of delight to my heart.

Now, I am not saying we cannot enjoy all of God's gifts to us... even His earthly gifts. I'm not saying that. We can enjoy them, He wants us to enjoy them if we enjoy them rightly. I am saying that, for me, they're getting in the way right now. I'm not enjoying them in the right way. They have lost their proper place. I have been delighting too much in things which are passing away.

And I'm clinging too tightly to them. Afraid of having to let them go.

"If Jesus is not enough, something is wrong."

Found that (here). Apparently I needed yet another rock-your-world blog post.

And something is wrong. And I have to ask hard questions. About this house. About my plans. About my heart.

We aren't moving. In case you were wondering. Following Jesus doesn't mean no Christian can live in an American suburb. We believe we are where He wants us right now. But, I'm not here how He wants me. Praising Him for His blessings. Thankful for the many, many gifts we've been given. But, above all, delighting in and enjoying and finding happiness in HIMSELF... even if the blessings don't come... even if He takes them away.

Ready and willing to leave it all behind, as long as I have Him.

Our church read Radical as a small group study around 18 months ago. I didn't realize even then how much my dreams for this house and for our family were tying me up. But, confronted with just a handful of faithful blog posts, I see it more clearly now. And I'm repenting from worldliness and discontent more seriously than I think I ever have before. But, I'm still living here. Wrestling this stuff out in the middle of affluence is more than I can handle, but Christ is sufficient for these things. And He can sanctify my Target-addicted American self right here in the trenches.

So, if you know Christ, maybe you can pray for me? And if you don't... well, I'm probably confusing the daylights out of you.

Let me just say that all these pretty blogs, all these gorgeous homes, all this STUFF - it isn't going to last. And we're all going to stand before God one day... and none of it is coming with us. Not one single thing. But one thing we will need - and that's the perfection of Christ Jesus.

He stands ready to take OUR sins away and GIVE us - freely - His perfection... without sin and perfectly acceptable before God.

That is reason to rejoice. To live a life given to Him fully. To fight the good fight of faith against anything that would take our affections from Him.

He alone is worthy.

Amen.




p.s. If you're going to comment, please don't say anything that glorifies me or my attitude or my thoughts - if there's anything good in any of them, it's not from me, anyway. It's Christ at work in me. So, give Him the glory.

can we just be honest here?

because, tonight, i just feel like spillin' my guts to you goobers. Yes, you're goobers. I see you reading... I see those numbers... and you don't comment. that makes you goobers. i'll still like you. But - YOU should comment now and then.

anyway, i feel like spilling my guts. and i may be a little hormonal. and maybe it's late. maybe i'm uncharacteristically negative right at this moment. but, that's the perfect mood to be in for this post, because you have to know that this mood happens. this is part of living in a torn up house. this is part of DIY. at least for me.



before i let it all get away from me, though. I want to say a few things first and foremost...

I am seeking a thankful heart in all things. Or - at least - wanting to seek it. I am striving against the sin of discontentment... selfishness... worldliness... all that good stuff. But, I'm dust. And my gracious God knows it. I fall short daily, but I want a thankful heart. One of the first things I know I need to do when the "house grumblies" start to get the best of me is to STOP and thank God... because I have already been given so much more than I need or deserve.



But, it's a struggle. And that's all I want to be upfront about tonight. It's a struggle living in an extended DIY project. It's hard for me to have parts of our home torn up 24/7 - three hundred and sixty five days a year. For nearly 3 straight years now, some part of the house has literally been all torn up. That's hard. And I'm a baby about it sometimes.



Sometimes the wires poking out of the walls or the drywall patches or the bare walls or the circular saw in the middle of the room just get to me. Sometimes, even though I struggle against it, it gets the better of me and I slip into a house funk.



it seems like we're never going to finish.

it seems like we were RIDICULOUS to start.



it seems like we live in a pit.

it seems like we're wasting time in some of the most crucial years of our parenting.



it seems like a bad bad bad house.

sometimes.



And I just wanted to tell you that. In case you thought I'm always so motivated. In case you thought it was all fun and games. In case you thought it wasn't a big deal. Because it is a big deal. And maybe we were ridiculous to take this on.



Sometimes I think a better name for the blog would've been Pandora's Box.

Or Molasses in January.

I like that one.



I am hoping... really hoping... that in a few years, I can look back at this post and remember how it felt, but also be glad that I'm not feeling it anymore. How long will it take to not feel like this? To not have these days? These weeks? I'm trusting that time will come. Looking forward.



It will come. It's painfully slow sometimes... and even slower because of choices we're making... about our time... our money. But, it will come. We will look back and barely remember when there were doors with no trim around them or master bathrooms with sparkly toilet seats. I think.

I'm striving to be thankful. I'm striving for a thankful, peaceful heart... seeking to strive while also resting in Christ... that's tricky. I don't need any of this stuff... striving to not let worldliness grab hold of me... to not glorify worthless things.

But wanting a home and not just a remodel project.

So, there you go. I'm typing all of that out and I'm not going to edit it. Consider it a true journal entry and I'm throwing it out there for anyone and everyone to read. Because maybe it helps to read it... to know that you aren't alone. Remodeling a house while you're living in it can feel like a hamster wheel. Like one step forward, two steps back.



But, tomorrow my plan is to clean the house. I always feel better when I get the house really clean and when i can organize something. And I get to have a mama night this week... I haven't been able to recently because i was making stuff for the star wars party instead of having restful, creative time. i'll make something pretty for the house. that will help.

a clean house.

something pretty.



I've been blessed with so much! It's absurd that I should grumble about dated, brown paneling when I've been chosen by the Creator of the universe and cherished as His precious possession! Absurd!

So, I keep speaking truth to myself.

Keep struggling. Fighting, I hope, the good fight.

But, I just wanted to tell you it's hard. And now I think that's sufficiently clear :)

And my next post will be happier.

Beauty in the Little Things

We had a few friends over for lunch the other day. I was cleaning up after they had left, and noticed how lovely the backlit glass looked on the table. Even with exposed concrete floors in the family room, cabinet doors off their hinges in the kitchen, and cans of primer and paint everywhere - there's still some prettiness to be found. I just need to have eyes to see it in the little things :)