House of Worry Renovation

Recently, we watched a new house being built down the street from us. We weren’t really invested in the process, but we could see the progress as we drove past.

My husband, Justin, is seasoned in construction. As we drove past the house on our way to and fro, Justin quickly explained to our two young sons, Sam and Charlie, what was happening at the construction site.

“Look, boys! They just delivered the brick!” And, “Oh wow! They are making great progress; the roof is finished!”

The boys always asked, “How long until it is a whole house?” to which Justin always replied, “It takes about three months.”

I had the thought that there is always a wait, a delay, something missing, something yet to be complete.

Believing something is finished is a huge step in our faith walk.

Whether you have restored or built a house, you have heard it said it is a ghastly undertaking. Undoing a mess to create something new usually means the old has to be torn down.

Believing as if you have received is a mindset that has completely changed everything for me.

Every stress that we take before the Lord is only made more stressful when we do not believe we have been heard.

Imagine you’ve hired someone to fix your air conditioner. You made the call, arranged for the technician to be allowed into your home, and left instructions for payment. You left for work, knowing it’s going to be a squelching 105 degrees tonight. You need air conditioning.

What is more stressful? Knowing that when you walk in the door tonight, you’ll be hit with a cool blast of mechanical air because you trust the process? Or thinking about how miserable you might be if the company you hired doesn’t show up?

I can’t promise that you won’t get a call around midday informing you that the air conditioner has to be replaced, but I can promise you will get answers.

Recently, as I painted daisies in my studio, a renovation show kept me company in the background. I am unsure what show it was, but one theme caught my attention repeatedly. All the reality-renovation characters are pressed for time, stressed for funds, at odds with their partners, and worried about how it would ever come together in 30 minutes, commercials excluded.

I stopped painting and took a moment to watch and listen. The show ended with everything in perfect order by the skin of the designer’s teeth, a network miracle. As they concluded with the “big reveal,” I noticed the decor of the once dilapidated home made new. It was completely blinged out with new things made to look old.

If aliens are watching us, watching HGTV, they must be terribly confused by our behavior.

Furthermore, as believers in Jesus Christ, I propose a lot of us are confused. We have been restored, yet we wander this big blue marble claiming ourselves worn out and distressed when we have been made brand new. Remember? It is finished (John 19:30). There is no wait. There is no doubt.

Hear me when I say I have been in the throes of a real panic attack. I am not making light of anxiety. But I am compelled to address the leaky faucet in the broken down, filthy kitchen, the heart of the home. The drip, drip, drip that plagues us? Worry. Worry comes sneakily into the mix of our true salvation. And friend, it is not for us. It does us no good.

It is time to stare down at the bare, rickety floors beneath the feet of the redeemed and take back the land that was promised to us.

The property in which we dwell on this earth is our minds. And our minds can be changed. Jesus said so, and I believe Him.

I speak from experience when I say, “If we change our minds, everything changes. Everything.”

We can pick new tile and carpet, we can build a whole new structure, but if the foundation is cracking under the pressure of old terrors and future unknowns, and we do nothing to restore it, we will be in a constant state of “under construction.” I propose we are invited to the big reveal now.

On earth, as it is in heaven, was what He asked us to pray.

There is no risk in trusting Him with all your funding, all your decisions, and every unexpected malady that comes as you rebuild the house that worry built. Restoration is messy. Sometimes all that is required is a sledgehammer and a fresh coat of paint. Other times you need a bulldozer and an industrial-size trash can. But the general contractor, Jesus, will follow through with all he promised.

What we are left with is a brand new, stress-free, joy-filled dwelling. A mind made new, a future free from worry, and plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future (see Jer. 29:11).

Granted, this doesn’t make a lot of sense in the realm of reality. But just as a restoration show on television gives you a glimpse at the process, the entirety appears to happen in 30 minutes to an hour. Hit fast forward on your DVR, see the unseen, and believe as if you have already received it.

Today I offer you this scripture. “So we say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can mere mortals do to me?'” (Hebrews 13:6) It is these words that remind me that there is no wait for what is. No stress is unseen, ignored, or neglected by our loving Father in Heaven. Peace is ours, and it is now.

Jami Amerine is an author and professional artist. She and her husband Justin are currently traveling with their two youngest sons, Sam and Charlie. Jami’s books can be found in your favorite book stores, and her art is featured in Home Goods and At Home. Justin and Jami have six children and are advocates of foster care and adoption. You can learn more about Jami at jamiamerine.com.

Photograph © Sven Mieke, used with permission