The Process of Becoming Usable

At the beginning of 2013, my husband Nathan and I bought a house. It was a bit of a fixer-upper, but we could see the potential in it, and it was what we could afford at the time. So, we bought it with the mindset that we would eventually fix it up, one project at a time.

 

After putting it off for six years, we finally decided to move forward with one of our planned home renovations this month - fixing our master bathroom. I say "fixing" rather than "remodeling," though remodeling inevitably took place, because our master tub/shower was actually unusably broken; and in order to get it back to working order, they were going to have to bust through the tile wall (which had already been done once before, before we bought the house, as evidenced by the already non-matching wall tiles). And the tub itself was rusted beyond salvaging. The whole unit needed to be ripped out so that we could start over from scratch.

And so, since it was all coming out anyway, and we already have a tub/shower in the guest bathroom, we decided to convert the master tub/shower into just a shower. This would mean a little more work, and a little more money; but it would ultimately suit our needs better.

We talked with plumbers and tilers. Plans were made, estimates given, tile and fixtures picked out, down-payments paid, and a starting date was set.

I was stuck at home for the better part of a week while the work was being done, trying to keep our three dogs calm and quiet. (Ha!) Sitting and listening from the other side of the house (and occasionally peaking in to check on the progress) offered me a lot of time to think about the whole process of what was being done. Workers manning pry bars and saws, ceramic shattering, and the crude ripping out of the tub and walls, leaving exposed the unsightly innards of our home. The first few days were primarily for the "tear out." And so, the master bathroom actually looked worse at the end of those first few days, not better; and if it was possible, it was less functional, not more.

Also, because the estimators couldn't see what was actually behind the wall (or under the tub) before the work had begun, we ran into a couple unanticipated set-backs along the way... which would require a little more time, work, materials, and a few hundred more dollars than originally expected (not to mention the added bonus of aggravation and frustration). Our original plans had been good, but they had to be reworked a little as we went along because of the project itself.

Still, after all the tearing out and prepwork were finished, the rebuilding (or remodeling) could begin. Pipes were rerouted, concrete board installed, tiles laid and grouted, and shower fixtures and shelving put into place.

 

The whole process was noisy, messy, smelly, costly, frustrating, uncomfortable, and inconvenient. It required time, commitment, collaboration, know-how, hard work, and heavy lifting. But it was also worth it. Not only was it worth it; it was necessary.

And when it was all said and done, not only did it look better than before we started; we had a working shower. It finally served a purpose, rather than just taking up space. Not only that, but it served a new and better purpose than the one it was designed to serve before. After five years of lifting our 65-pound basset hound, Willow, in and out of the tub for bath times, we finally had a shower that she could walk into on her own, which was great news for my back! The space had been repurposed to better meet our needs during this stage of our lives.

This process - it's not unlike the work that God does in you and me.

I think we like to believe that, while we might need a good cleaning every now and again, or maybe even some minor repairs or updates from time to time, we're still fully functional, just as we are. 

But here's the truth. We may be functional at a time in our lives for that time in our lives; but then, we have to surrender to the process of being made usable, again, for whatever comes next.

Sometimes that process will just require a good cleaning. And other times, it may also involve a few minor repairs or updates.

But we need to understand that, sometimes, that process will involve a painful gutting - a ripping out and a nearly starting over. This may be because we've grown crusty from lack of use, or perhaps we've become worn out from overuse, or maybe we've even been damaged from misuse or abuse. But it may also simply be because we're no longer suited for the job at hand. Because whatever experiences equipped us to fulfill our purposes up to that point are no longer relevant for whatever's coming next; and so, we must go through some new and different things, so that we can be restructured and repurposed to remain usable.

Now, we don't plan for this sort of thing, of course. We don't set aside a week in April to get the job done, as if we're the ones overseeing the work; no, we are the "work" to be done. So when it begins, it generally catches us by surprise. It's that thing we never saw coming, and we rarely welcome its disruption of our lives or the demand for change that it brings with it.

First, the walls of our heart must be torn down, piece by piece, exposing all our ugly; exposing the decay of what remains of our old-man, the dead skin still being shed; exposing all the cracks formed under pressure, from which our faith may slowly seep out, if not repaired; exposing our weakest and most vulnerable places, where, under the right conditions, doubt and fear and pride and all forms of sin can grow like mold.

Keep in mind that this part of the process can be lengthy and gruesome, and we're likely to uncover more "ugly" and more "work to be done" than we would've estimated. And we may see the very worst of ourselves during this time. (And, God help us, someone else might see it, too!) But there are points in our lives where this becomes necessary for all of us; else, we run the risk of becoming like that old tub in our bathroom - broken, ill-suited, unusable, and satisfied to just take up space.

And while all these things are being dealt with, there will also be a rewiring or rerouting of our thoughts taking place - a re-rooting in the Truth.

All of this takes time. Depending on the extent of the work to be done, as well as the condition of our heart and mind at the start, it may take a few days or a few weeks. Or it may take a few months, or even years. God is not daunted by long periods of time, though we often are; time is one of the primary tools He uses in the process of making us usable.

We had a leaky pipe in our tub/shower, which was one of the main reasons for the overhaul in the first place. Imagine if we had asked the plumber to skip over fixing that pipe to speed things up, and we'd asked the tiler to just rebuild the wall around the leaky pipe. Sure, from the exterior, we still would've ended up with a beautiful new shower; but the leaking would've continued to cause problems that would eventually lead to us having to break through that wall, once again. And ultimately, even more time (and work and money and...) would have to go into fixing what could've already been fixed, if we'd just been patient and let the workers do what needed to be done the first time.

It's a ridiculous illustration, because no homeowner in their right mind would do that; but we might do just that when it comes to the process of being made usable. If time drags on, we will likely want to move past this part of the process before we're ready - to leave our insides as they are and to move on to fixing up the outside. But we have to remember that we are the work to be done, not the One doing the work. So, we must be patient and let God finish what He begins, however long it takes, so that the finished product doesn't just look good, but actually is good. 

Then, once the inside is fixed up and ready, the outside can begin to take shape. And we should expect that, when all said and done, we won't look the same as we did before. No, we should look better. For if we surrender fully to this process of becoming usable, allowing the Master to do His work in us, we can be certain that our finished product will look more like Him. And better still, we will be ready for His use, for whatever purposes He has for us next.

There have been many experiences in my past (even my not-so-far-past past) that I would never have chosen for myself. Hard things. Heavy things. Things that I wouldn't even wish on my worst enemy. But God used (and is using) those experiences to shape me into the person I was always meant to become, so that, at just the right time, I would be (and will be) ready and able to do whatever work He has planned for me to do (Ephesians 2:10).

We all want to have a purpose. And the truth is, we all do have purpose. But we can't live out our purposes without first undergoing the challenges and the often-painful experiences along the way that are meant to shape us and to prepare us to fulfill those purposes.

This is the process of becoming usable. It's not pleasant; but it's necessary, and the end results are oh, so worth it!

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:2-4, NIV).

"And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns" (Philippians 1:6, NLT).