Renovation

On Moving Through a Mess

Photo by Nolan Issac on Unsplash

“Thanks, guys, for all your hard work pulling up our floors today,” I called out, then waved as the father-son duo zoomed off in their work van. I donned the hated N95 mask my asthma required and snapped the elastic string taught behind the back of my head. Reluctantly, I entered the house.

Oh no.

I’d been warned, but it was way worse than expected. Construction dust and splinters of wood lined every surface of the downstairs rooms. Seeing the actual mess caused my stomach to plummet. Thankfully I’d covered everything with plastic! But on closer inspection, I found even the plastic sheeting protecting my cupboards and pictures caked in construction dust.

“What a mess!” I sighed as my husband ascended the basement stairs.

“Well, you knew it would be!” he scolded, then frowned. “My basement is covered in dust as well. It’s all over my keyboard and electronics.”

“What?!?” I looked at him in dismay and some disbelief. “How did that happen? The windows were open, the vents covered. We didn’t even run the AC! I don’t understand…”

“While you were gone, they tore off the flooring and needed to shore up a floorboard, so they pounded a shim underneath. Then the jackhammer on the hall tile caused pieces of the basement ceiling tiles to rain down. And look—they removed your vent covers to take up the floor. That’s how this mess ended up in the basement.”

Carefully descending the basement stairs, I found evidence of construction dust atop everything. I bent down and ran my fingers through the stuff covering the floor. Besides the construction dust and tiny pieces of ceiling tile, little splinters and jagged pieces of wood were strewn everywhere.

Feeling defeated, I wanted to cry. Dealing with chronic health issues, I’d feared the mess that removing an entire level of flooring would cause inside our home. So, instead of facing it, I procrastinated and put the job off for years.

When my husband threatened to take over the job, I knew it was time to push forward. I did my best to remove everything from the main floor that could be carried away beforehand, covering everything else that remained.

I never anticipated the mess entering the basement or I certainly would’ve covered everything down there as well. The fact that our basement contained my husband’s two offices, multiple computers, and an electronics lab for my husband’s work caused extra dismay.

“Lord, I can’t handle this mess!” I groaned. “How do I even begin?”

“Just make a start,” I heard somewhere in my mind. So, I did.

I drug out the old vacuum, thinking I’d sweep up as much as possible before dinner. By now, the N95 felt hot and uncomfortable. Regret over starting this project crept in.

Yet…wasn’t this way overdue? From the standpoint of a person with asthma, a cat, and threadbare carpets that heaved up and held dander, it needed to go. Indeed, some form of removal and renovation was warranted. So here I stood in the aftermath.

“Just quit thinking and get to work,” I admonished myself, vacuuming around the gaping edges of bare floors minus their trim.

“Clink! Ting!” All kinds of satisfying noises greeted my ears as I sucked up nails, staples, wood splinters, and sawdust.

As I worked, I thought about this need for renovation, sometimes physical and sometimes mental. This past year, I’d found myself battling poorly understood health issues, worsening to the point of complete shut-down, both mentally and physically. By the time spring rolled around, I found myself struggling with the familiar landscape of depression and needing some help. A renovation was in order!

I spent time in prayer asking God for help. Sharing my struggles with friends and through my writing helped. A new counselor helped reframe my circumstances in a more positive light—after all, dealing with chronic health issues at home allowed extra time for writing.

A medical test revealed that my weakened gut lining wasn’t making enough serotonin. A depressed mood made more sense. Even with training as a nurse, I’d fallen into the trap of labeling myself a “failure” for feeling discouraged when there might be a physical root.

Within weeks of taking medication to help, energy and motivation returned. I felt like my normal self! Once again, God heard and led me to the right helpers to provide answers.

I’m thankful to be on the other side of this past year’s struggles, AND I will be just as glad when our house renovation is complete.

In the meantime, I’m reminding myself to persevere, be kind to myself, and move forward each day. I’m confident of God’s help whenever I call out to him from the middle of a mess.

I’ve even started to inject some humor into my messes these days. Rev. 12:5 says “He who was seated on the throne said, ‘I am making everything new!’” (NIV). Since God’s specialty appears to be renovating, I’ve begun thinking of him as the “Great Renovator.” And if heaven is his “Creation Renovation Station”, I guess that makes me a “Reno-Patron”!

We never outgrow the need for renovations in life. But thankfully, God leads us through the messes to the other side.

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