Yes!!! We are finally getting around to our bathroom floor. Life happened… we broke apart the first section a while back, and quickly realized this would be a bigger job than just 24 hours. So until we could enlist the help from my dad and have a few days with no upcoming events, we put the tile floors to the side. But we are back in action! I’m swinging a hammer like a mad woman and coughing up a lung from all the dust flying in the bathroom. But it gives me such joy.
The harder I hit the concrete with the hammer, the more broken the floor becomes. I watch the floor become tiny fragments of its former self from outside forces. I know that the brokenness is only temporary until we clean up the mess and lay new gray floors. The whole process makes me grateful for this period of fragmentation. I’m blessed to watch the old crumble away, ready to absorb and support the new that’s coming!
I am much like the broken tile floor. I am a work in progress. Small cracks form with pressure from areas in my life that God is recreating to be something beautiful. The broken pieces make me feel like one big disaster sometimes. But I have faith in God’s plan for the damaged parts.
I don’t think God necessarily swings the hammer to break me. I think that’s Satan’s doing… Or my own. I have broken pieces of my heart from destructed friendships, past relationships, stress, and loss. I feel broken from the many times I’ve been the one swinging the hammer to create holes and decay in my esteem and my circumstances. It’s God who picks up the pieces with a plan to honor those parts that have chipped away, while preparing us for something greater, past all the rubble.
We will forever look at our floor and remember the tile that was there before. That’s part of the beauty in repurposing: you remember what was, what is, and what will be. You cherish the new because it was never possible without the ugly pieces that turned broken, then redeemed.
I realize with experience that I focus so much on the brokenness, how to make sense of it, and move forward from it, that I miss the beauty in God picking up the pieces. He mourns over every portion of us that hurts, struggles, worries, and doubts. He sees us moving in desperation to restore and put the pieces back as they were. However, God longs for us to allow Him to be the one who decides what to do with the destructed shards of ourselves. Sometimes, we are not meant to go back to exactly what was.
Its in the wreckage when God molds your purpose: how He can use your broken pieces to reach the fragmented places in others’ hearts. So, I am making the choice to not question why I have to endure the cracks, splits, and destruction… But ask how God can use those shards to serve others. Using our own periods of destruction to intertwine in the hearts and journeys of others makes the brokenness not seem quite so messy after all.
As for my floor, I’m thankful for all the life it’s seen in the last eighteen months. I’m enjoying demo day because I know God has big plans to make something truly beautiful from all of the broken pieces.
house of stain 