Working at Rest

Lath and plaster gone, time to insulate!

Well! Within the last few months it feels as though a renovation bomb went off in our home. It also looks that way! We had the best part of a year to transition and settle down into our new home, but then something just happened and suddenly we have numerous renovation projects on the go. Thankfully, apart from the occasional melt down, I am coping well with living in a large scale construction site. Even though it is tiring, disgusting at times and stressful, I love all the learning and the new experiences. Over the last few months we tore out lath and plaster from our entire main floor, moved our kitchen temporarily into a tiny room at the front of the house and insulated the main floor. If that wasn't enough, just these past few weeks Nathan has been re-shingling our roof, and I have been operating the telehandler to get him up and around our crazy 12/12 pitch roof with a dormer on every side! Lets be honest, I didn't even know what a 'telehandler' was, or what '12/12 pitch' meant a year ago, so I'm on a steep (haha) learning curve. Now I have a slightly better chance of understanding what Nathan means when he talks to me in constructionese. I often need people to come and remind me of all the progress we have made; I am a little too 'all or nothing' to appreciate it on my own. But when they remind me, it is incredibly encouraging that by God's grace we are moving forward. Along with that, I finally got a work permit from Canada Immigration, and I got a job at a daycare that starts in a couple of weeks! Woohoo!

Preparing the roof for shingles

I am amazed at how much stress we can both feel during these projects. It is not uncommon for either of us to be awake for hours in the middle of the night with our minds whirring like coffee grinders, trying to figure out a solution or a plan. We both seem to have a hard time shutting off. The thing is, I still battle this deep seeded belief that once the house is fixed we won't carry such a heavy load. So I just need to buckle down and figure out everything with the house, then fix the house. Then I will feel rest. I know it's not true. But at 3am, when I'm bright eyed and bushy tailed, it never even crosses my mind that chewing over some issue for hours in my own strength is not to my benefit. Believe it or not, Nate and I have to really work at experiencing rest. It feels like it takes far more work to take my thoughts captive and hand over the unknowns (and even the knowns) to the Lord than it does to carry them on my own shoulders. Yet I know I am far more drained from wrestling with them on my own. So let me keep this short and sweet, seeing as I have to get back to destroying some stuff. Friends, rest is available to us. Today. During the journey. Not just at the destination. Actually, not guaranteed at the destination. Really, though. So I pray for us all that when we catch ourselves worrying about how or when or what if or what if not...that we would be able to take Jesus up on His offer:

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." 

Matthew 11:28-30

These Great Many Paper Cuts

This is my third attempt at a blog post over the course of the last few months. I have been simultaneously stirred to write and paralyzed. For those of you who do not yet know, Nathan, after much prayer and deliberation, moved from farming into carpentry; something he has wanted for quite some time; the story is both hilarious and incredible. One of my previous drafts consisted of me recounting the story. However, every time I went to press that bright orange "Publish" button, I could not do it. Instead, I feel I must stay true to my original intent for this blog; to convey what happens within us Walls. So rather than reporting our glistening highlights, I must present us in our real, less polished state.

It has felt like we are walking trudging through a tough season, and though I cannot lay the blame on one particular catastrophe, the overall sense is that nothing is going "as it should". For some reason, many areas of our life are not gleaming successes. From months of further delays in my immigration process, to uncertainty about our financial stability over this winter, to dashed hopes for progress on the house, to a simple longing for familiarity, to our out-of-commission car. You name it, there is something significantly difficult in almost every aspect of our life. And to top it all off, while putting my Bible study booklet in my purse this morning, I got a nasty paper cut on my knuckle! 

That paper cut may have been a trivial matter, yet a fiery retort shot out of me, "Are you serious?" My response was notably out of place for such a minor injury, yet it was indicative of the other troubles I wore around like a weighted backpack. I already felt as though these great many paper cuts in my life were trouble enough. Though minor, and relatively easy to resolve, their sting has been unreasonable in large part due to the anxiety they bring. Indeed, many questions over the last few months have started with "But what will happen with..." and ended with a heavy heart. 

The question is this: Can I really have joy in unfortunate circumstances? I can already hear most of you rushing to greet me with hopeful responses, but let us saunter there slowly. Until this week, my entire communication with God lately had become a flood of pleas for rescue, knowing full well what He is capable of. On better days, I would even trade the burdens for His soothing peace. Yet still joy eluded me, and nothing changed. And suddenly, I was reminded of a passage that I have always loved, Philippians 4:4-7. As I pored over it, I noticed two things. Firstly that the paragraph started with a charge to rejoice! Secondly, that on the surface I was doing the right things in praying and petitioning, but my heart attitude toward Him was marred by ingratitude. The thanksgiving spoken of in verse 6 was the furthest thing from my prayers, as was the joy from my heart. 

In His gentleness He showed me how my perspective on life was that it "should not be this way". How unfathomable it had become in my mind that this is what He wants for me right now, and that even now I could be living a joyful life. Rather, I started finding joy in the future, or my imaginings of it. This way I could dream up the future to be everything I would have for me. The same old human condition that would look at the tree we cannot have with desire, and blind us to the rest of the garden. My first read of this year is a timely one, Ann Voskamp's "One Thousand Gifts", and God worked through it to turn my heart's direction toward thanksgiving. I do not think that means no longer acknowledging the difficulty of the trials, because I know my Father cares to hear me out. But who is to say things will get any easier? And more importantly, who is to say that if they get easier I will suddenly find joy? Friends, I have been believing a lie, but I am thankful that He opened my eyes to it. Here's to a new journey in 2015.

A Broken House

Lately I have had a bee in my bonnet about starting a blog. Ever since moving on from our time in Alberta, I have been deep in thought about the friendships we developed while we were out there. Each one of them was a special gift to accompany us through the challenges and joys of each season. And so both of us wanted to find a place where we could still communicate our heart to friends; whether in our new home town or dotted across the globe (as many of you are!).

Ceremonially removing the "For Sale" sign!

So here we are. We moved our belongings into our new house one frosty April evening. It was, of course, the most unlikely thing that we could have imagined. A year prior to our move, Nathan had gotten a sense in prayer that God was going to give us a house. In our very human way, we got into the car, drove around Turner Valley (our home at the time) and inspected the property market for ourselves. Needless to say we drove home dismayed and disbelieving. But through God's incredible provision we were able to purchase this brick house built in 1897. Seeing as this blog was intended to communicate our heart, I will be honest with you. If you were to take a walk around our new house you would be met by two prominent feelings. The first would be an overwhelming sense of hope and potential. This house has the potential to be absolutely stunning! Yet soon enough reality sets in, and you'd be left with the second feeling - that much work has to be done before it can ever reach that potential. Lately my thoughts have turned to why God gave us this house.

I could grumble. After all, the British have grumbling down to a fine art. And at times, when we are fixing a toilet stack and toilet water is dripping onto my face, then I do grumble. And thankfully He has never given up on forgiving me. I could chalk it up to "if we want to live within our means, this is what it looks like". And of course, there is truth to that. We desperately desired not to get ourselves into hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of mortgage debt. And though "affordable" by our standards is affordable indeed, I think there is yet another element, a greater reason, to why we were called to reside here. 

Before moving here I asked the Lord to show me what the real story had been with this house. And the words I got were "broken dreams". And when I walked through it again the next time, those words rang truer than ever. Every project, once begun, remained undone. Several relationships had crumbled within these walls. The situation within the house had spiralled to a place where disillusionment had set in, and the hope of renewal and redemption had dwindled. It can be very overwhelming living here, just seeing everything that needs to be fixed! And is that not so true of how we feel when we look within ourselves and see the brokenness and the hurt that still resides? 

For so long we felt that God has been speaking to us about His desire for "rebuilding the ancient ruins" from Isaiah 61. There were a few months there where I was inundated with references to Isaiah 61. We have seen Him rebuild ancient ruins within our hearts as He has led us (and is still leading us) through those hard places of the past, brought deep healing and taught us that He really is capable of bringing freedom to captives. More so, that He wants to. I felt Him question, "If that is what I have sown in your hearts, can I not also depict it through your home?" I must admit, I still struggle with it. I like having a nice place to invite people to, rather than a construction site. And I have had to force myself to invite people over, because I feel shame about the state of the house! But again, is that not so true of how we feel about letting people into our hearts? We hesitate to let people close because we are so caught up in our imperfections. I guess I just have to believe that just as He can use our imperfect hearts, He will also use our imperfect house as a blessing.