Oh, 2016.
I spent nearly three days pondering what I wanted to write about this past year, but honestly I came up empty-handed each time. I thought about touching on the challenges 2016 brought, which were certainly beasts of a different kind. I thought about highlighting the great things God has done despite the chaotic mess, for He of course is worthy of praise. I even thought about skipping the typical yearly reflection altogether and writing a letter directly to upcoming 2017. Each option seemed fine enough, but none of them really got me stoked. And quite frankly, none of them really seemed suitable to accurately describe how I felt about this past year.
So instead, I’m going to talk about something that I really like and tie it into my thoughts about 2016. I’m going to talk about the show Fixer Upper.
Okay, I’ll admit. I watch HGTV more than probably any normal 24-year-old should. But I don’t care. I am especially not ashamed about how much I love Chip and Joanna Gaines. Actually I’m not entirely convinced that Chip isn’t my long lost relative in some way. We seem to share the commonality of unashamed goofiness. I’m not even kidding. We have to share some sort of bloodline.
If you don’t know the Gaines crew, I feel bad for you. Look them up. They are practically America’s greatest power couple. They turn houses that are neglected and unsightly into amazing dream homes for really deserving people in the city of Waco, Texas. They have the silliest and sweetest relationship with one another and their four beautiful children. And to top it all off, they really love Jesus. That’s just a nifty added bonus.
As you may or may not know, the show consists of the Gaines’ duo showing families three different run-down housing options that each have the potential to be turned into amazing, show-stopping homes. Designer Joanna draws up all the design plans while Chip does most of the construction and manual labor. When the time comes, the family chooses the option that they feel best suits them. And when all is said and done, the family is typically flabbergasted by the transformational makeover their new dream home has received. By the end of every episode, there is usually a lot of cheers, a lot of tears and a whole lot of praise for the Gaines’ amazing work.
As I watched probably my fifth episode in a row the other day (judge me), I thought about how the families must feel about choosing a house when all they see is the chaos of the “before” stage. Most of the houses are so worn down and beaten up. Some of the homes seem so worthless that they would be better off demolishing the eyesores entirely in order to start from scratch. Flipping houses seems like it would be easy enough, but most of the time it’s a huge gamble.
Think about it. The house could have major issues that aren’t uncovered until you’re already deep in the process. You’re pouring a lot of money into merely an idea, a vision, and you may not even know exactly what you’re getting yourself into. All you have to go on is the word of people who simply promise everything will work out in the end. That kind of thing takes a lot of trust. A lot of sacrifice. A lot of faith. It takes a heck of a lot of surrendering and relinquishing control.
And if you really think about it, God is into that same kind of thing.
God is a builder. That is certainly no secret. His extensive resume only consists of building every living thing in existence. But perhaps even more importantly, even after all He has done and will continue to do, He seems to care the most about building people. Let that sink in for just a moment. The Creator of the entire universe, the One who made insanely awesome things like stars and planets and giraffes, cares about developing us to become more like Him. Talk about a labor of love.
See, God is a master in His craft and knows exactly what needs to be done to mold us and shape us constantly into His own likeness. But like any good contractor, He only builds and transforms us as much as we allow Him to. For like any great renovation project, radical transformation comes at a price.
What is it worth to us?
In Luke 14, Jesus has a serious conversation with His followers about what it takes to truly be His disciple. His words may seem harsh at first, but His hyperbolic language is merely used as an illustration to show them the magnitude and gravity of discipleship.
“A large crowd was following Jesus. He turned around and said to them, 26 “If you want to be my disciple, you must, by comparison, hate everyone else—your father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even your own life. Otherwise, you cannot be my disciple. 27 And if you do not carry your own cross and follow me, you cannot be my disciple.”
Luke 14:25-27
As if these words weren’t striking enough, He goes on to give an example about the cost itself.
28 “But don’t begin until you count the cost. For who would begin construction of a building without first calculating the cost to see if there is enough money to finish it? 29 Otherwise, you might complete only the foundation before running out of money, and then everyone would laugh at you. 30 They would say, ‘There’s the person who started that building and couldn’t afford to finish it!’”
v. 28-30
Another example later, and Jesus concludes His teaching with a bullet straight to the heart.
“ So you cannot become my disciple without giving up everything you own.”
v. 33
So what exactly does this mean? To be His disciple, are we supposed to give Him our possessions? Money?
While these things are pleasing to the Lord, they are not really what it’s going to take to follow Him. Rather, He wants something far more valuable—something much harder to let go of.
He desires we give up ourselves.
That includes our sin. Our shame. Our desires. Our lives.
Control.
And that is one of the toughest things to do.
When I think back on 2016, this particular theme seemed to resonate throughout the year. I never considered myself a control freak, but situation after situation has revealed that relinquishing control and getting myself out of the way is one of my biggest struggles. The trials I’ve faced, the challenges I’ve come up against, each circumstance I’ve met this last year has included coming to a place of humble surrender—lifting my hands in the air and saying, “You are God, and I am not.”
Much like the families on Fixer Upper who place their trust solely in Chip and Joanna to turn their raggedy house into a beautiful masterpiece, I am constantly learning how to trust the Perfect Builder. He has a knack for turning the unsightly into unblemished works of art, myself included. And I can rest assured knowing His plans are perfect and His promises are true.
Deep down I know that the projects He’s doing in me are going to yield some amazing things—qualities that are going to keep growing me and making me more like Him. What a privilege that is. In the meantime, I will continue to stand in the middle of the process, in the midst of the chaos and the mess of the construction site, in hopeful expectation of what is to come.
All that God requires is that I lay myself down and watch Him work the way only He can. And I know that in the end, the cost will be more than well worth it.
***
Oh, 2016. You were full of wild surprises and crazy rides. Despite all the chaos, God did some pretty incredible things.
Bring it on, 2017. I am ready for you.
made for more 