Transformers

I watch HGTV and know a lot of other people who do, too.  I’m particularly hooked on the programs that feature a family choosing from two or three house options and then watching the experts turn the chosen one into a spectacular home.  I enjoy working on our house and seeing it change, but I don’t always love the process.  It seems as if it’s almost always messy, confusing, and chaotic.  At least that describes most of our house projects.  They turn out okay in the end—well, they usually do—but there’s a point where I’m just not sure.

I certainly felt that way during our one major remodeling.  This plan went far beyond our usual “Hey, Charlie, I’ve been thinking” kind of project.  That kind of project generally causes my dear (and uxorious) husband to break out in a cold sweat.  The major remodeling project, though, could have caused heart palpitations.  It involved blowing out part of the front wall of our brick ranch, enlarging the master bedroom and bath, and building a covered porch across the front of the house—a big and time-consuming project.  This project required a contractor and subcontractors and all kinds of materials.

I knew we were in for it when the contractor had a thirty-foot dumpster delivered to the front yard and then placed a seafoam-green port-a-potty next to it.  Neighbors we didn’t even know stopped by to ask what we were doing; I’m pretty sure they were wondering how long we’d be keeping our new lawn ornaments.  I wondered the same thing.  I also wondered at times when and if we’d be able to use the front door again, when the dust from the demolition would subside, and whether any of this was even a good idea.

It turned out to be a very good idea.  When we could enter the house by the front door, when the dust had subsided, when the workmen were done—and when the dumpster and port-a-potty got hauled away, we knew it had been worth it.  Our house had undergone a transformation.  I love and appreciate the finished product, most especially the front porch.  I grew to understand in ways that I hadn’t before that such transformation requires the kind of major process that we experienced.

I understand now in a fresh way that our spiritual transformation also requires this kind of major work—messy, confusing, and chaotic work.  Our home-remodeling contractor was good; our spiritual-remodeling foreman is beyond good—He is perfect, the sovereign and mighty Creator and Lord of the universe.  He always has our best interests at heart.  His transformation will leave us far beyond anything we could imagine.

Ephesians 2:10 confirms this for us:  “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”  Some versions translate “handiwork” (poiema in the Greek) as masterpiece.  The Lord takes the raw material of us and transforms us into people useful for His purposes.  That is a major, major transformation.

When I sit on my front porch, rocking and watching our dog Bailey mooch around the year, I’m enjoying something that didn’t exist previously, I recognize that what has changed in me is also something that didn’t exist previously.  The same is true for any of us who follow Jesus.

Questions for you:  What kind of major remodeling/transformation have you experienced?  Looking back, what kind of spiritual transformation have you experienced?  What kind of spiritual transformation are you hoping to experience still?