Enduring the Dust: Remaining in Life’s Renovation with Faith and Perseverance

The only way to endure renovation is to remember the end.

Several years ago, my wife Vickie and I undertook a renovation of our kitchen. It started innocently enough with a built-in oven that was on its last legs. When we discovered a new one wouldn’t fit the 40-year-old opening, what began as a simple appliance replacement evolved into something much more extensive.

Several thousand dollars, two demolished walls, new flooring, and a completely reconfigured kitchen later, we emerged from what had become a major home transformation. The process was far more challenging—and revealing—than we had anticipated.

Life Under Construction

Our spiritual lives follow a similar pattern of renovation.

Jesus speaks of new birth, and Paul describes our faith journey as death, burial, and resurrection. These powerful images mark beginnings, but they’re just the first step. Like new parents who beam at their newborn only to be quickly eclipsed by diapers and sleepless nights, our spiritual journey involves both joy and challenge.

New Christians, in their attempt to grow, inevitably face temptations from without and doubts from within. Questions arise: “Why did I fail again? Does my struggle mean my faith isn’t real?” Then come the interpersonal challenges—knowing we should forgive but not feeling like it, wanting to love difficult people but finding it nearly impossible.

It’s this “in-between” stage—the messy middle—that presents the greatest challenge.

The Messy Middle

During our kitchen renovation, we were displaced from the heart of our home. We attempted microwave cooking but quickly abandoned that plan. Our house was draped with plastic sheeting held together with tape, creating makeshift doorways that zipped closed. I lost count of how many times I tripped over those bottom edges. Fine dust coated everything, working its way into corners we didn’t know existed.

That’s what spiritual growth often feels like—a renovation full of dust, diversions, and detours. We’re caught between what was and what will be, living in the uncomfortable space of becoming.

Finding Direction in Disruption

What kept us sane during our kitchen remodel was a simple phrase our decorator repeated whenever we felt overwhelmed:

“Keep your eyes on the prize.”

This wisdom applies profoundly to our spiritual renovation as well. During difficult days, we simply need to get through them, one step at a time. When we fail (and we will), we must learn to forgive ourselves and start fresh the next morning. When relationships become strained, we humble ourselves and apologize. Each night, we can lay down and say, “The day is over”—another day closer to heaven, another small step toward becoming who God created us to be.

The writer of Hebrews offered similar encouragement to struggling believers:

“Let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (Hebrews 12:1, NIV).

Note the specificity: “the race marked out.” Not someone else’s race, but the one designed specifically for us. On lengthy, laborious runs, experienced runners set their sights on the next hill, all while keeping in mind the finish line and the medal that awaits them.

The Promise Beyond the Process

The spiritual renovation we’re undergoing may be messy and uncomfortable. There will be days when the debris seems overwhelming and the completion date feels eternally postponed. Yet we press forward, believing that the Master Builder is creating something beautiful from the apparent chaos.

Remember to keep your eyes on the prize—the promise of a life renewed, the joy of becoming more like Christ each day. The process may be difficult, but the result is worth every challenge. Keep pressing forward, trusting that God is at work, even when the dust is still settling.

The prize ahead is worth every step of the journey.