Drywall Dust

There is a thin layer of drywall dust covering everything in my house.

It covers shelves, tables, racks, electronics and the life jackets that are piled randomly under the desk in the dining room. 

There is no way around it, it’s just part of remodeling. Clean it up. Rinse. Repeat. 

We are currently updating our second bathroom and office. We have already completed our first bathroom, our exterior siding on the house and workshop, our basement hunting room, stabilized our home’s foundation and updated our chicken coop. We’ve also put in a new stove and dishwasher, and Theo laid out a massive garden this year with a timer-set irrigation system. 

The chickens are laying, the cucumbers are growing, and we are building, always building. 

Sometimes I think there is an end in sight, but really it’s just a brief pause, a reprieve until the next project begins. With the demo. And the noise. And the drywall dust.

Life is like this.

I think there is something in our nature that makes us want to always be progressing. We feel like we should always be moving forward and upward, onto bigger and better things. We learn life lessons and we feel like we’ve leveled up. There is an invisible staircase we are always trying to climb.

But God. 

He comes and tells us that even though we are done with one room, the next one still has to be completely stripped down to bare studs and remade. The electric needs rewiring and the plumbing needs adjustment. And even though we just finished that other room beautifully, there will once again be drywall dust on everything. 

And realistically, the rooms are endless. There’s no finished project on this side of heaven, just a continual preparation for the life to come. 

Fourteen years ago I stumbled into my first AA Meeting. High hopes and the idealism of being only 21 led me to think that I would always be growing into a better version of myself. Maybe I have, but what I’ve realized is that the growth is not linear. It’s not leveling up. It’s not climbing the staircase.

It’s more like wandering from inner room to inner room, all of which are perpetually under construction. Some are farther along than others. Occasionally one gets finished out with nice white trim and clean paint and a sweet bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase on the desk. But mostly it’s just under construction - all of it - all the time.  Drywall dust everywhere.

Sometimes the demo is loud and painful. Things come creaking and screaming off the walls. The tools used are mighty for destruction. The clean-up is an event. 

Other times you are deep in the finish work, with mud and trim and paint and flooring all meticulously laid out and installed. 

I’ve spent years upon years trying to “get better.” First from drug and alcohol addiction, and more recently from mental illness. I keep going back to that old urge to progress, to level up, to climb the staircase. And I’m tired.

Maybe it’s not about getting better. Maybe it’s more about wandering from room to room, checking out what the Master Carpenter is up to with his perfect plans, perfect timing, and perfect progress. After all, he promises to carry on his work in us until completion when he returns again (Philippians 1:6). 

I was reminded twice this week that I don’t hold onto Jesus, Jesus holds onto me. That’s his work. And there’s so much peace in that. 

And let’s not forget that in all the remodeling, beautiful things are born. Beautiful, orderly, clean, colorful, happy things. You just have to live in the drywall dust while you wait.