For the past several days I’ve been working on a building. We’re doing the Chip and Joanna Gaines thing and remodeling a second home we own in the state of Florida. If you’ve ever watched Fixer Upper, you know that Chip’s favorite day is “demolition day.” Well, I’ve basically had five demolition days in a row. It’s a destroyer’s dream.
My sons (who are basically my work crew) and I are about to turn the corner, however. We’ll begin to put it all back together today or tomorrow. It won’t be as much fun as tearing it apart, but it will look a whole lot better when it’s finished than it does now (I hope). It will take a lot longer to reassemble the pieces than it did to disassemble them, but I’m expecting that the finished product will be worth the effort.
A Strange Phenomenon
I’ve noticed a strange phenomenon occurring within my psyche over the past week. I find that every day when we leave the site of our property, I’ve become more attached to it than I was the day before. The more time and sweat equity I put into that place, the greater the pull to keep it and live there. Our current plans are to sell it when it’s completed, so that is unlikely to ever happen. But investing yourself in something like that tends to change you from the inside out.
Essentially what I’m doing is working on another person’s abode. I own the building, but it will soon be someone else’s home. As gratifying as it is to see the bungalow transformed before my very eyes, it’s even more satisfying to anticipate the enjoyment another individual (or individuals) will receive as they live in the space we’ve provided for them.
This all puts me in mind of Jesus’ words as he was preparing to depart planet earth for His heavenly home. He told His disciples that He was leaving in order to build them a house. His actual words were, “I go and prepare a place for you.” (John 14:3) He didn’t describe it in detail except to strongly imply that His Father’s home has a lot of floor space. I guess that’s why we often refer to our heavenly dwelling place as a mansion in the sky.
Oh, My Aching Back
My aching back causes me to wonder what means Jesus will use to erect our saintly domicile. If the creation account in Genesis is any indication, He will simply speak it into being. On the other hand, we often assume that Jesus was a carpenter during his physical life here on this earth (although it doesn’t really say that anywhere). He may actually be building our divine lodgings by using His muscle and sinew and the sweat of His brow.
However He chooses to do it, I’m sure He’s getting a lot of satisfaction from the fact that it will be there for someone else to enjoy. I look forward to being one of the providential residents.
[Dave Zuchelli is a graduate of Pittsburgh Theological Seminary and currently resides in Aldie, VA.]