We are building who we are with every choice we make. We look around us and build with the materials that are in front of us. We’ve been building since we were children.
A point exists, as growing children, when we lose our innocence. We patch the hole and try not to lose anything else. We become adults with what we have patched ourselves with. Life’s wind billows through our trees and strips our leaves. Life’s storms rip off our shutters and loosen our nails. Whatever was poorly built will not stand when life comes knocking. Our cupboards don’t always provide for the visitors appetite.
Storms show us our weak spots when it rips through our walls and rains in our living room.
We’ve been building since we were children. Since before we knew what kinds of storms would blow through our existence.
As you journey, more and more building materials become available. The rocks from the hike, the steel from the fight, the paint from the vacation, the ideas of dreams.
There is a time to build. There is a time to demolish. There is a time to renovate. There is a time to add a room.
You are never finished. What sufficed before may not serve a purpose any longer.
Storms are never to destroy you, they are to help you get rid of the substandard supports and replace them. How do you know what needs to go unless you know what doesn’t hold up? How will you know what doesn’t hold up unless it is tested?
God brings us through times of renovation and rebuilding. He puts you in a tent until your house is livable. He limits you to one side so He can work on the other. One by one, He’s adding bricks. He’s adding paint. He’s carving pieces of art from what you thought was trash. We practice contentment while we’re sequestered. We get the hang of the smallness and He unlocks another door.
He’s a painter in front of a canvas and we peer from behind His back as His hand moves and His arm sweeps. His body bends and stretches. His head cocks and His eyes pierce. We can only see what He’s done so far, but He has a bigger picture in His head.