Boards

Fresh new boards covered the windows and doors of the house. The old boards had been there a long time.

I remember when we were looking for a place to live in the neighborhood seeing this house. It was boarded up then but still appeared in good condition. It's on the quietest street in our neighborhood. The houses on either side of it are in excellent condition. It's the only house on that block that I've ever seen boarded up. The owner was not interested in selling it back then and must not be wanting to now, either.

So there are fresh boards on the house. Though they're better than the old boards which had begun to rot, the house is still a board-up.

It's hard for me to understand why someone would keep a house boarded up for so long. They could live in it or rent it or sell it. Certainly there's something useful they could do with it rather than just reboard the windows and doors every couple of decades.

Then again, I do understand a bit about keeping things boarded up.

I have places inside me that I don't want to deal with that I've kept boarded up for years. There are dark corners full of grime and pain and resentment and things I've completely forgotten about that I don't want to see. Even when I get a chance to go in and try to clean things out I prefer to instead put new boards up and move along to more pleasant areas.

And I want God to respect the boards, too. Yes, I know that the Spirit will bring new life to all areas I let Him in. But I've had Him work on so much of me that I know His remodeling projects can take a long time and are often painful. Though I am absolutely sure the results of His presence will bring life, I just don't want to deal with the process.

So guarding the boarded up doors becomes as important as the boards themselves.

There are no signs from the city on the house. Yet, for all practical purposes, even with the new boards this house is condemned. John 3:18 reminds us that I don't need to have someone spray paint the word "condemned" on the parts of my life where I lack trust in the Savior; that message is self-inflicted.

I fantasize that God would work like they do on the television show "Extreme Makeover - Home Edition." I could invite Him in, He'd send me to Disney World for a week, and then I could come back with all my old junk removed and a new life in front of me.

But He want me to pick up a hammer, too, and take ownership of the process.

When I've done so in the past -- when I've taken down the boards and let Him remodel other areas of my life -- I've received nothing less than an abundance of joy and peace as a result.

So somewhere deep inside me there's a hope that I'll work up the courage and strength to remove the boards on those portions of my life that I haven't yet given completely to Him. Then, by His grace, we'll enter into the next episode of "Extreme Makeover" in my life.

Let your mercy and grace flow, Lord. Let your light shine in my darkness and let me live in the fullness of Your presence.