So, some of you know, but many of you don’t yet: Lewis and I
have decided to renovate and live in a 1971 Airstream Sovereign. We have
wanted to do this since we got married, but I was worried if we did it in upstate
NY I would become a human popsicle. Negative 30 degrees for a week straight
scared my southern blood into a real house with real walls. We are PCSing soon,
and thought this would be the perfect opportunity to revisit our
hippie\minimalist adventure idea. I promised myself, and so many of our
friends, that I would document this process with photos and updates. I’ve been
a little lax – a lot lax – on this and I’m so sorry! This will be the first of
hopefully several updates about the process of turning our precious, rusty,
sardine can into a home.
Originally I was going to write about much more technical
mumbo jumbo, the what’s and how’s of the operation, but then I realized – that
is not me. And that is not this blog. This blog is about talking about my
heart, and the junk in it, and how God is loving and exhorting it into His
Son’s image. Its about taking those thoughts and journal entries, and putting
fingers to keyboard to bring Him glory as best I can.
Our Airstream adventure has been a
sanctifying experience so far. God is using this project to challenge my heart
and strengthen my friendship with Lewis. So that’s what I’m going to write
about. This Airstream being made into a home, and how God is using it to make
us more at home with Him.
Bringing this baby back from Virginia was quite the nerve
wracking experience. The bottom layer of aluminum holding up the rotted
subfloor of the bathroom was falling out on the interstate. It was being held
up by ratchet straps and prayer, and I was an emotional, anxiety ridden, wreck.
We knew what we were getting ourselves into, we had planned and communicated
and searched for the perfect one. But driving it home, late at night, fear and
doubt and worry crept in and made me overthink and question.
How many times do I let myself do this with Jesus? How many
times do I pray and read His word and prepare, and then when things actually
happen as promised and discussed – freak out and completely stop trusting?! I
doubt His word, His goodness, and His ability to take care of me and have my
back.
Sitting in this truck with Lewis, glancing out the rear view
mirror, wide eyed and worrying every 10 seconds, Lewis looked at me. He looked
in my crazy eyes, saw my shaking and felt my quick pulse. He smiled and said,
“Its okay. You don’t need to be afraid. I’m here, and we’ll get home. I know
it’s late, and you’re tired. Just get some rest, I’ll get us home safe.”
How many times does Jesus reassure me like this? Cupping my
face in His hands, looking at my eyes, and saying, “Baby girl, its okay. I’m
here. I’ll get you home safe.”
I wish I could say that I calmed down. That I trusted Lewis’
words, and Jesus’ words, and relaxed and let them get me home safe. I didn’t. I
stayed awake, I stayed anxious. But reflecting on that experience, growing
through that fear, left an impression. A knowledge of a big heart problem that
I need to address.
From then on I started keeping track of the lessons God was
teaching me in this process. The visual illustrations of His truth and the gospel.
Those lessons are what I’m going to post with pictures.
Things have to be broken, and it will get worse before it gets better. Just like our hearts. Every new door\wall pulled down can reveal a new problem or job. Just like every new season in life will come with new obstacles, or old ones revisited.
Rat poop is hidden EVERYWHERE, and you cant cover it up. It smells, there is no way to mask it. The junk in our hearts will come out. It will rear its ugly head, it will have to be dealt with. We can hide for a little while, or just get used to the smell. But ultimately, we have to let God come in and clean it up. The only way to long term results is to tear everything down to the skin and bones. While I was doing the demo part of this, our friend Sam came over to help. I had been in the Airstream for a while, and had worked my way slowly into the back where the bathroom was. When he got there he came back to say hello, and realized I hadn't opened any of the rear windows yet. I had just been breathing in stale, rat poop air for an hour or so without realizing it. I had gotten used to it and didn't notice it anymore. I do that with my own sin and short comings often. I grow accustomed to them, accept them, and move on without thinking about it. Which is why - we need HELP. We need to invite people into the nasty parts of our lives (and our Airstreams), not knowing what they will see or think, or even if they’ll do more damage than help. You’ll have to bring in people you trust, and allow them to see the mess, and help you demolish it.
Doing the work hurts, you'll get scraped up and knocked around in the process, and you need the right tools to be effective. We've been given the Word, prayer, and community as powerful tools.
The work and the effort lead to tiredness – and that’s when more brokenness comes out. Just like in ministry or marriage, when you're tired more of your ick comes to the surface. Its okay to be tired, but go somewhere to refresh. Jesus promises us rest and time to reflect, take advantage of it.
If you're too prideful about your progress you'll forget how much is left to get done.
Its worth putting in the work for the end result – but sometimes you’ll lose sight of that. You'll have regrets and doubts. That’s when you need a partner to remember the value of the project, to get excited, to gently tell you how good it WILL be. And also why you have to preach the truth to yourself. Have an eternal perspective, see the bigger picture, remember the dream, the reasons, and the motivation, and the TRUTH. Don't get caught up in believing a lie, fight against it.
