Introduction: The Biggest Project of the Summer
Looking back over this summer, I’ve begun to realize something.
The biggest project God has been working on wasn’t our house.
It was me.
If you’ve been reading my recent posts, you know that my retirement hasn’t exactly started the way I imagined. Instead of leisurely mornings and grand adventures, thanks to the house we bought in Casper, Wyoming, I’ve spent much of the summer repairing drainage, fixing sprinkler problems, tackling one unexpected project after another, and making more trips to the hardware store than I care to count.
There were days when I wondered if we’d ever reach the end of the list.
Now, as I look around our yard and house, I realize we’re finally beginning to see the finish line. We’re not there yet, but at least it’s in sight.
The drainage works.
Many of the repairs and renovations from our list are complete.
The house is starting to feel like home.
And that has caused me to reflect on another kind of work that has been taking place all along.
Letting Patience Finish Its Work
Last week, I wrote about God’s extraordinary patience with us.
This week, I’d like to consider why He is so patient.
The Apostle James writes:
Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
Some older translations use the word patience instead of perseverance, which I think beautifully captures the idea James is expressing. Whether translated patience, perseverance, or steadfast endurance, the point is the same:
God is producing something in us.
James doesn’t simply say that trials happen.
He says they accomplish something.
And then he gives us a fascinating instruction:
Let perseverance finish its work.
In other words, don’t interrupt the process.
Remodeling More Than a House
As I have reflected on these past couple of months, I was reminded of one of my favorite passages from C. S. Lewis’s classic book Mere Christianity. His words describe God’s work in our lives better than I ever could:
“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first perhaps you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised.”
— C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, Book IV, Chapter 9 (“Counting the Cost”)
That certainly resonated with me. When I first read those words years ago, I appreciated the metaphor. This summer, I lived it.
The first big unplanned project of my summer has involved quite a bit of getting the drains right.
But Lewis doesn’t stop there.
He continues:
“But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense.”
Isn’t that often how life feels?
Just when we think we understand what God is doing…
He begins another project.
One we never asked for.
One we don’t understand.
One that seems to take far longer or hurt more than we expected.
The Path to Hope
Paul the Apostle describes the same process in Romans:
I love that progression.
Patience, otherwise known as suffering.
Perseverance.
Character.
Hope.
Hope isn’t where the journey begins.
It’s where it leads.
As I look back over this summer, I can honestly say that’s exactly what I’ve experienced.
Not because the projects themselves have been enjoyable.
They haven’t.
Not because I suddenly enjoy building drainage systems.
I don’t.
But because I can now see the light breaking through the clouds.
The endless list has become a manageable list.
The overwhelming projects have become finishing touches.
Instead of wondering whether we’ll ever enjoy this home…
I’m beginning to imagine what next spring and summer might look like.
Morning coffee on the patio.
Playing with the grandsons in the yard.
Friends and family gathered around the table.
Time to simply enjoy the place we’ve spent so much time preparing.
Hope has quietly begun replacing discouragement.
The House God Is Building
Lewis brings his illustration to its magnificent conclusion:
“You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”
— Mere Christianity
What a remarkable thought.
All summer long, I believed I was remodeling a house.
God was remodeling a heart.
The drainage mattered.
The repairs mattered.
But perhaps the greater work was happening where no one else could see it.
Expanding patience.
Deepening trust.
Cultivating gratitude.
Growing perseverance.
Building character.
And quietly leading me toward hope.
The Storm Is Passing
Lately, it feels as though the storm that’s been raging all summer is finally beginning to pass.
The wind has settled.
The clouds are starting to break apart.
Sunlight is finding its way through again.
Soon, the only reminders of the storm will be the fresh smell after a cleansing rain, greener grass, and perhaps—even if only in my imagination—a rainbow stretching across the gleaming azure Wyoming sky.
Maybe that’s what hope often looks like.
Not pretending the storm never happened.
Not forgetting how hard it was.
But recognizing that God was faithful through every moment of it.
And by recognizing, remembering.
And remembering, turning back to God with gratitude. Even thanking Him for the things I really didn’t like at the time I was enduring them. Counting the blessings I discovered along the way.
A Final Encouragement
Perhaps you’re in the middle of your own storm today.
Maybe you can’t yet see the sunlight.
Maybe the list of problems still feels endless.
If so, don’t lose heart.
God isn’t finished yet.
Let patience finish its work.
Because the God who patiently walks with us through every trial is also patiently shaping us into who He created us to be.
And when He is finished…
You may discover that the greatest work He accomplished wasn’t around you.
It was within you.
A Question to Sit With
What might God be building in me through the very season I’ve been asking Him to end?
Master's Canvas - Writing & Photography by David K. Carpenter 