"Behold, I make all things new." Christ said these words. When we read them, we usually forget about a few details that come along with "making all things new".
I am a guy that likes to remodel houses. I'm kind of a big deal when it comes to one specific trade of the remodel. Demolition. My family and friends know quite well that if you're going to do some demolition work, put me on the site with a sledge hammer and within minutes your demo job will be done with efficiency and totality.
There's a morsel of something here that I think we need to chew on. When we look at something that needs to be changed or remodeled, like say...a home, we envision it a certain way. We make a plan of what needs to be done and how to get there, all with grand hopes of what it will look like in the end. No matter which way we slice it, to do a true remodel, it almost always requires demolition.
You can't just install those pretty new glazed cabinets on top of the old honey oak cabinets. And you'd be wasting money to just set some slabs of granite on top of the old olive green formica. And I doubt the wife would be too pleased if she saw that you had installed her new dishwasher right next to the old one. No, in order to make the room new, you've got to do some nasty work. You've got to do some demo. Some tearing out is in order...and like any true remodel, you're sure to find some unwelcome surprises that you'll simply have to deal with because once you start, you can't go back. You've got to finish.
Now, if a house had feelings, I think we would be able to understand ourselves a little more by understanding what the house goes through in a remodeal. If a house could talk, I'm sure it would share some not so kind words of what we put it through during the whole "making all things new" process. You see, there's no way it feels good even for a moment for that wall to get knocked in the joist like that. We rip drywall off like its flesh from a deer. Yet we give no care to the house's feelings because after all, we're making it better (okay...not to mention because it can't talk...and doesn't have feelings).
When we remodeled our current home, I bet the home went into shock when it saw the size of the trash can that got delivered. We filled that can 3 times...over 8 tons of ripped out house. We busted out two brick fireplaces, ripped out ceilings, moved a bathroom, ripped out floors. It was a total redo.
But to see it now, its a whole different story. We've truly taken an old moldy, mice filled, dated, antiquated, nasty house....and turned it into a warm and delightful home. It was an ugly process, but the outcome is one we are proud of.
If the home could talk, I bet it would be proud of its new digs too. But I bet it hurt like hell getting there.
You see...I was reading Tozer tonight. He has a chapter that talks about the blessedness of possessing nothing. At the end, there is a prayer that I think speaks well to what I'm getting at. I added a few words that made it a little more "mine". But this is the gist of it.
"Father, I want to know thee, but my cowardly heart fears to give up its toys and worldly affections. I cannot part with them without inward bleeding, and I do not try to hide from the the terror of the parting. I come trembling, but I do come. Please root from my heart all those things which I have cherished so long and which have become a very part of my living self, so that Thou mayest enter and dwell there without a rival. "
I wonder what will make it to the dumpster if I set it outside the house of my heart. It will hurt and there will be bleeding. As I've seen certain things get torn out of my heart in days past, I've seen glimpses of this pain. But I can't tell you how warm it feels to see what is brought in its place. Just when I get my fancy curtains ripped off my walls, the Lord shows me what he had in mind to put in its place, and I've yet to be disappointed.
A nicely remodeled home always has to go through some pretty serious pain. I imagine the human heart does as well. Tozer said that within the human heart is a tough fibrous root thats desire is always to possess. The ancient curse will not go out painlessly; the tough old miser will not lie down and die in obedience to our command. He must be torn out of our heart like a plant from the soil. He must be extracted in agony and blood like a tooth from the jaw.
He says it well...it will hurt. It will hurt badly. We will bleed from it. But what will be put in its place is incomparable. It is God and His Son Jesus Christ. And there is no greater remodel. And there will be no need for another where we give Him final residence.
