Day One Hundred and Ninety Five - Blueprints

There is a song I like, by Shawn Groves. It's called "Welcome Home". It makes the analogy that our hearts are like homes. We fill them with useless triffles, we hide away our nastiness in rooms with locked doors. We shut up the windows to keep out the light. 

God is good. I may be a petulant child right now, but that doesn't mean I think my Father is anything other than the definition of Good. He has been doing a good work in me for a long time, tearing my house down to it's very foundation. So that He may rebuild. I did not take into account my own stubbornness, my own pride. What He tore down, I rebuilt. The exact same way it was before. Everything He took away, I replaced. Every time He ripped out a wall to let the light in, I built it right back up again. I understood that He was tearing it down, but I liked how it was before. I wanted it rebuilt just how it was before. Only, you know, newer. 

...I'm an idiot. So finally, God in His infinite Wisdom and Kindness, used one of the very few people that can see right through my bullshit to the blueprints and can get me to listen, to show me the blueprints. And how incredibly fucked up they are. Let's just say it makes Willy Wonka look like a minimalist.

The materials are good thought. It still has it's pretty parts. The entire thing isn't ugly or rotten to the core, but it could be so much more. It needs to be redone, but the flavor of it can stay the same. It will still be me. He doesn't want me to change into someone else, He wants me to be the best version of me. He wants to let a little light in. Open some doors, clean out some rooms. Let the light in. It's not just my skin that could use a tan, apparently. I think my soul is a little pale as well.

So this time around, now that I'm aware of my stubbornness and pride, we're going to try really hard to keep those in check, and let the Carpenter do His thing. He will tear down, and He will rebuild. I will not put up the same walls again. I will let the light in. I will not find new locks when He opens the doors. 

I will not even argue with His methods. Sometimes, they seem a bit harsh, and I feel more than a bit fragile. But He knows best. I prayed for comfort, and got torn down. I was given what I needed, rather than what I wanted. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop praying for comfort. It'll be time for comfort one of these days.