When God Gets His Hands on the Funk

I’ll bet that it’s been a long time since you thanked God for sheetrock
or floorboards
or painted ceilings.
I never thought about them much
until now.
We’re going into year three of living in a house the previous owner was tempted to raze.
My husband is handy and confident he can turn it into a thing of beauty.
I’m confident of that as well,
I’m also confident that I’ll be in my seventies when that happens if the process doesn’t kill me before then.
My bedroom has a floor and three walls are whole. I try not to look at the fourth. The ceiling isn’t finished but there are no major holes and it doesn’t leak. That’s a plus.
My daughter’s room has walls, ceiling, and a floor (though no one has seen it since she took up residence, we have faith that it’s still there under all of her books and clothes.)
The kitchen now boasts a floor, walls, and ceiling. Yea, for progress!
But the adjoining rooms, optimistically referred to as the living room and dining room, look like an exhibit designed to teach children what is inside the walls, floors, and ceilings of their homes.
Mostly, I’m good with this – or I try to be
but this week I visited a home that had these elusive things called walls and floors. In fact, it was beautifully decorated, warm, homey, and welcoming.
I returned home cranky and out of sorts.
I’d love to say that immediately I spent time with God and prayerfully sorted through my funk. I’ d also love to say I’ve reached my ideal weight and am in the best shape of my life but I’m a truth-teller if nothing else.
What I did was grouch at my husband, express (aloud and with facial expressions and much sighing) all manner of discontentment, and essentially dump my disgruntled mood onto him, which he then generously shared with our son and so on and so on.
It probably created a ripple effect so that if you’re in California and someone berates you for no good reason on Tuesday, you have me to blame.
I slept on my little black cloud and didn’t take my mood to the Lord until the next day when He gently but insistently walked me through the many choices I’d made in the last few hours and suggested how they might have been different.
But then, God wanted to go deeper.
No, thanks. I responded. I’m sorry. Mood over. Let’s move on.
He wasn’t letting go.
What was at the root of my funk? I’m not, generally, a grouch to my spouse, so what internal silt had been stirred up by the visit to that lovely home?
He prodded. I spilled.
As a girl, I longed for the home I would create one day and then, one day, I created it. There’s nothing wrong with that and it served our family well. In fact, while others of my generation spurned the titled, I reveled in it – I was a homemaker.
That meant something to me. Something deep.
It never mattered to me that we didn’t own that home – but it did matter to my husband.
Now, he has the home he wants to own
but it’s in no shape for a woman’s touch, yet. In fact, every man who tours the house gets all excited about it and its possibilities. When I ask them if their wives would move into it with them they get a frightened look on their faces and back away – Yeah, no.
It still needs a lot more of my husband’s elbow grease before anyone will look at it and think a “homemaker” lives here. So I guess I’m feeling lost, unmoored.
As God processed my funk, He asked questions.
Is my identity wrapped up in my surroundings and my influence on them? If that’s gone, do I still exist? Is my only choice to remain in suspended animation until I can play my role again?
Was my home making all about flowers on the table and painted walls – is that what my children will remember – or is it comprised of something intangibly more?
Is it not something portable that can travel with me even if the walls of my home fall down?
Is it not more about the interior design of my heart than my skill at matching linens and towels?
When I dumped on my husband this week, was that the act of a homemaker? or a wrecking ball?
One of my lifetime proverbs has been from Proverbs 14:1 “The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.”
God is good and gracious and kind so He pulled me even deeper into His heart to remind me of His truths.
My home is with Him.
Jesus is preparing a place for me because one day, all of this will be behind us.
My desire for Him and to be a homemaker is from Him but it has more to do with the hospitality of an open heart and a schedule that makes room for the needs of others than with table decorations and warm lighting.
I’m glad God pushes me.
I wish I had walls and ceilings
but I’m glad God has given me time without them
so I know that I can be a homemaker even without a home.
What are you doing without right now and how are you reacting? Is God pushing you to work to the heart of your reaction in order to grow and to become more effective for Him?
Ask Him, would you? And then get some place alone and really listen.
When God gets His hands on the funk, everyone emerges better off for His touch.

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10 Comments

    The Conversation

  1. Rats, yet another post that will not let me just settle in and rest. Ah well, EMBRACE is my new word. The Lord is calling me to EMBRACE what He sends my way. I happen to have ceilings, walls, and floors, but I’m an ocean away from my ‘stuff’ as well as my children and grandchildren.
    You’re right. Whenever God gets aholda my funk I’m breathless in His presence.

  2. Pam Manners says:

    Thank you, Lori. As usual, your posts always take me where I need to be….even if it’s not where I WANT to be.

  3. Anonymous says:

    Your house may not be a home because God’s home for you is not of this world. But I’ve seen the results of the love you share with people who have homes but feel alone and unloved. I’m one who has had the same home for 53 years but nothing in the home is as important as the people I call family. I wish I had as much love to give as you do on a daily basis! The old saying, “Home is where the heart is” tells me your feet may be on this earth, but your heart is right where God wants it to be–invested in people who need Him. You go, girl. MOMMA

  4. Well, this post hits home for me, as you well know. It’s hard to let go of our dreams when the Lord has different plans. Brutal, actually! But yes, He does some of His greatest surgery during these times if we let Him.

    As for your house, I can’t say I’d be happy living in renovations, either, but I can honestly see the vision. So much charm there! That front porch is right out of my imagination. I picture Jessie and Gemma sitting there sipping some sweet tea. Or you and me someday. There’s something to look forward to!

    • I do sit on the porch a lot. One day, you’ll have to visit, Jen, but right now, you’d have to sleep on the porch, too. It’s beautiful out there until a month from now when the bats return and take up residence. oh yeah, lots of bats. 🙂

  5. So so good! I love the part about the ripple hitting the rest of us in Calif. so funny. I also love your conversation with God , He knows how to go deeper than we want but then we are totally thankful that He loved enough to go there. Blessings Lori, Susie