My Fixer Upper

We have been so blessed with housing since we returned home.  Our current assignment is now complete in Bolivia, as far as living out of the country. The work and ministry is far from over.  Except when we lived in a practically new apartment in Bolivia, we have always lived in something that needed repairs, a "fixer upper".  Always.  But we seem to enjoy the process of taking something in need of repairs or changing to make useable. I must say though, I am thinking at this point--were we 20 years younger, it might not wear us out so completely!  But here we are--back home, both working--and just finished the painting-ripping out--cleaning up of a house back where we began.  Home.

For days something I wrote last year for StreetTalk Magazine has really stirred my heart again as I have been praying through some questions I have asked the LORD. I have re-written some of the article to share here.   I never knew after I initially wrote this--that I would experience some of the worst anxiety and depression I've ever known.  But it happened.  I am still praying through it many days.

What seems like a hundred years ago, my cousin’s daughter, Kristi, used to sing a song at church when she was a little girl.  I can still see her standing up at the front with her pretty handmade yellow dress, microphone in hand, “He’s still working on me, to make me what I ought to be…”.  

She wasn’t my daughter, but I was so proud of her bravery, talent and determination for singing—and I, like many others would grin so big because her little voice and the words of the song had a special message to all of us:  

We are more than a bunch of “fixer-uppers”.

Really.  I kind of feel like a fixer-upper in bad need of repair. There have been so many times since He nudged me out of my comfort zone in 2009, that I feel like an all-out failure at this.  I don’t do it right, say it right—or even think it right SO MANY TIMES.

During my chemo days in 2016, right after the initial four most toxic rounds were administered, Jeff and I were blessed to be in a quiet place with an amazing view for a few days -before the next 5 months of chemo commenced.  I had gotten up early to meet with the LORD on the porch.  I was so tired. But also in that tiredness, I had a sense of expectation of what God was doing in my life.  

As I sat down with my devotional equipment:  Bible and big cup of hot coffee, I got comfy to observe what was before me.  I like a view when praying and talking to God.  Sometimes it’s not possible, but when it is –there is nothing better.

The lake was like a sheet of glass.  All would have been absolutely perfect, except for the noise.  Somewhere across the lake, the echoing staccato of hammers kept the moment from being perfect.  

“Repairs are underway”, was my thought after the initial sense of aggravation of the interruption of my perfectly peaceful time with the LORD.  Even right now, there are the irritating sounds of repairs going on in an apartment above us—somewhere up one or two more floors, a saw, a hammer and somebody smoking a weird smelling cigarette, all interrupt the thought processes of writing.  (Remember, this was written in Bolivia—where the weird smelling cigarette was fairly common.)

It all makes me wonder what the work on the spiritual life sounds like.  

Oh, I know well what sounds “I” make when in process:  Tears. Repenting. Complaining. Anger. More tears.  More repenting. (And now, in the re-write of this, I can add a little yelling out-loud but at nobody seen- at the confusion of all that has transpired in this journey.)  I often wonder what it looks and sounds like from His view.

“Just a little more on this area”, chisel placed, hammer poised in mid-air… 

—“Wait”, the assistant angel might say, 

“Won’t that cut to the quick?”  

“Yes, but she’ll recover and what grows back in its place will cause Christ to be revealed to others.  Remember, she wants Jesus to shine through her life—and she’s got some thoughts feelings that really don’t embody My Son.” 

“She’s crying a lot—it must really be painful.”

“It is –but notice the Holy Spirit has not left her side—He will help her every step of the way—See?  She’s calmer now.  She knows what I’m doing is so that He will be revealed. Her surrender to the chisel makes a big difference.” 

“How long will it take?” Asked the assistant angel as he noticed the bloodstained cloth pressed to the wound.

“Well, that depends entirely on her submission.  She has had some real stubborn areas.  And, she had some areas that she never allowed Me to heal from many years ago, so We’ve got some scar tissue to work through.  That’s really what’s causing her the most pain.  That old hardened scaring is tough to deal with.  She should have surrendered that a long time ago. But, she’s made a lot of progress. She’s not the same girl that sat before Me a few years ago, let alone a few months ago.” 

“What’s the Holy Spirit doing now? She has a calm expression.  And her prayer has changed—Whatever it is, she needs more of it.”

“She’s allowing Him to pray through her.  She’s at a point, it’s hard for her to know what to pray—it’s some of those scar tissue issues  I was telling you about—He knows and He’s interceding on her behalf. It all must be done before her next assignment.” 

Of course, you know, this was all from my imagination—I have no clue the conversations going on in the heavenlies as the “repair work and construction work”  is done in my life—but I know this:  He’s thoroughly invested in us.  You and me.

I spoke to a sweet young woman last year around the time of the writing of this original article.  We talked about house repairs and she showed me a video of what they were looking at buying. It was old and neglected and had so many issues—but she saw beyond  every  issue.   She saw that little house for what it could be.  That’s exactly how our Father sees us.  What we could be if only we will let Him have His way.

I used to have vision like that. To be able to see beyond what was in front of me.  Beyond the disrepair and the issues.  I want to see that way again.  I want to see beyond the surface—to the bones of the matter, where the strength lies. My prayer today is that I will stay surrendered and that God will open my spiritual eyes as never before—and while the work is in progress (on me), that I will be able to at least catch a glimpse from time-to-time—the progress made— and the end result.  My prayer for you is the same.

© Angie Knight 2019.  All rights reserved.  

Also shared in the August 2018 issue of StreetTalk Magazine © Angie Knight.

BECAUSE of His great mercy He has given us new birth into a LIVING HOPE through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. 1 Peter 1:3-4 HCSB (emphasis mine)