A Remodeled Faith: Uncovering Beauty

On a cold, late December night over a decade ago, I walked behind the thrifted couch in the living room of my first home and began to tug at a corner of the bedraggled carpet. With much effort and accompanying dust, that initial corner broke free of the tack strip. That first pull became a remodeling project lasting into the dawn hours and through subsequent days.

I was determined and sure when I made my move, but before that day, I vacillated between wanting to tear up the carpet to see what was underneath and not wanting to deal with what I might find in the process. Our home was nearly seventy years old, purchased from the original owner, who was in her nineties. By the time my attention turned to the carpet, I had already flexed my home renovation muscles removing several layers of gold wallpaper and Con-Tact paper on every flat surface in the home.

Americans love watching home remodeling shows. Designers and decorators rise to celebrity status as they teach us how to make our suburban homes look like minimalist farmhouses. According to a Harvard study, homeowners and landlords in the U.S. spent a whopping $424 billion on home improvements in 2017 alone.

I love a good home refresh as much as anyone else. It’s not uncommon for my husband to come home from a trip to find rooms painted or furniture refinished. The feeling of accomplishment coupled with a fresh, new thing electrifies my senses and keeps me coming back for more projects.

The Messy Middle

Have you ever noticed how, on home remodeling shows, the producers go to great efforts to show the crumbling “before” shots and the dramatic “after” photos, but the messy middle is usually left out? The middle of a remodel is the absolute worst. You are frustrated, dirty, and the goal seems so far off. You are most likely over budget and under-rested. The deconstruction has to happen before the reconstruction, but it’s not pleasant.

Our homes are not the only things we remodel. We remodel our politics as we grow and change. Our physical bodies can benefit from the renovation of healthy eating and movement. In each of these examples, the taxing, frustrating work of the middle is still there.

For the past several years, my faith has been in the messy middle of remodeling. I grew up in a culturally Christian home, fell away from the church in my teens, and found my way back in my early twenties. The church is the birthplace of many of my closest adult friendships and best memories, yet I struggle with a faith that seems more concerned with who it keeps out than who it lets in. My heart has broken as the church has perpetuated abuse and racism, a far cry from the command to treat others as ourselves. I have watched revered church leaders align themselves with worldly power structures and appear unconcerned with the Bible’s call to true and blameless faith: the care of orphans and widows (James 1:27 ESV) and Jesus’s command to love one another (John 13:34-35 ESV).

The Land of Mystery and Doubt

During this renovation, I have taken a sledgehammer to certainty. I am embracing the mysteries of faith Christian leaders have spoken of for centuries. For every answer, I have dozens more questions. The land of mystery and doubt can be lonely. The thought of the loss of my community scares me as I grow further from the cultural norms of evangelicalism. The middle of a faith shift is a wilderness with no pretty “after” photo in sight.

As hard as it is to admit where I am and live in the tension, there are glimmers of hope along this journey. I am encouraged by leaders in the church who are working to redeem what it means to be Christian in America. Technology acts as a bridge between fellow faith remodelers to create an international community of people who love the church and want her to be better.

Even on my darkest days, I still believe God is working towards a new creation filled with love and belonging.

If you are experiencing a faith remodel, if things look much different than they did at the start, and you are feeling frustrated, sad, lonely, or scared, take heart. You aren’t alone. Christians of great faith have walked the roads of doubt, deconstruction, and reconstruction for much longer than our current moment. Don’t let the messy middle break you. Find community; we are out here. Read the works of others who make you feel less alone. Read the psalms. You will be amazed how desolate David felt at times, and he is called a “man after God’s heart” (1 Samuel 13:14 ESV). Be honest with God in your prayers. He already knows your heart.

Uncovering Beauty

When I ripped up the carpet on that winter night, I didn’t know what I would find. In speaking out about my faith shift, I am unsure how I will be received. But my hope in sharing my heart is that I will uncover beauty, like the mint condition hardwood floors beneath that decaying fabric carpet. The wood was old but preserved, and it stood the test of time under layers of more temporary covering until it was time for it to see daylight once more. Likewise, maybe it’s time to strip off the tattered rags of old faith patterns and do the hard work to reclaim a faith that stands the test of time. Remodeling, whether floors or faith, is hard, but the chance of uncovering something beautiful is worth the risk.

Lindsay Hufford is a small-scale farmer, home educator, chicken chaser, kitchen dancer, and mediocre knitter. Her favorite things include spending time with her family, exploring the natural world, reading, eating spicy food, and singing loudly in the car (to the embarrassment of her children). Lindsay believes sharing our stories will change the world. She writes about farming, homeschooling, faith, mental health, sobriety, and living an unconventional life. You can follow her adventures at peckandpetalfarm.com.

Photograph © Third Wheel Photo, used with permission