Making New

It was a toss-up, whether the kids and I would be more hindrance or help, but the together factor trumps all these days. We’d go.

I slid steaming bowls of oatmeal across the counter. “We’re going to the Revival Building today to work!” I braced myself for protest. Saturday mornings usually involve making The List. It’s our rest-renewal day and we each choose one activity that fills us up,  then throughout the day we enjoy all four things together. Daddy often serves us by making his one item “go for a run” then promptly crosses it off with a smile because he’s already done it while we were still sleeping. This leaves extra time for other exciting list items such as “read about tarantulas,” “dig for worms,” and, Heidi’s personal favorite, “do fabric.”

But today  “Renovate The Revival Building” was the only item on the list. Our “new” church space is a 100-year-old historic brick building right in the heart of downtown Oregon City. Over the last century it’s gone from church building to office space to big-abandoned-spooky-place. We walked, ran, and prayed circles around this building for 8 months, knowing the $800,000 price-tag was out of our budget by at least $795,000. It seemed silly to pray this big–the building is enormous and we have exactly 12 families. (At this point each family could have their own room.) We are dead-set against debt, so we weren’t even sure what we were praying for. But more than once the neighboring hair salon would look out and see us standing like loons, our palms placed firmly on the brick exterior walls, praying for God to do something bigger than we deserved. Mark Batterson says in order to see God move in big ways we must have a dream beyond our resources. 

Check.

So imagine our surprise when a Dance Vision sign was hung up out front. And imagine our surprise when I took a wild leap and called and they said, “Yes, we’d love to rent out our space to you!” And imagine our surprise when we walked inside and they’d remodeled the main room beautifully, to period, with massive exposed beams and old pendant Edison bulbs hanging from forever-high vaulted ceilings. I’m not much for aesthetics, but I walk in this room and want to fall on my knees. I can feel it in the walls–this room held glory at one time, and The Revival Building is no misnomer. 

It’s history and prophecy all at once. 

But outside the central dance-studio rooms, the building remains in shambles.

Insert a little band of folks called RENEW.

The owner laughs when we tell her. Dance Vision‘s vision is to see girls renewed through devoting themselves to dance. Their vision was to renew the building. Our vision is to renew the city, and all the lives in it, by sharing the hope, love, and grace of Jesus Christ.

We shake hands.

To renew is to “make new” and the making part means work. So I fill the back-pack with oatmeal bars and vinegar-cleaner, and we set out, the kids on bikes, and trek to 7th and Jefferson. Dutch dons a tool belt–wrapped almost twice around–and goggles. Heidi chooses baseboards and vinegar-cleaner. Both take themselves very seriously. I clean the bathroom, wipe blackened window blinds, pull weeds. Dutch talks incessantly about tarantulas over the sound of the table-saw and Heidi empties an entire bottle of cleaner in ten minutes (“Babygirl, just ONE squirt, then wipe.”)

I know we are little more than obstacles for the men to step over.

But the only obstacles I’m worried about are the ones we put in front of little ones, the ways we make faith a grown-up thing, keeping them quiet and out of the way. Jesus gathered them up, held them, blessed them.Told us to be like them.

And then He said, “Behold, I make all things new.” And He lets us wear the too-big toolbelt and join along. Let’s us spill stuff and talk loud and use far too much of the vinegar-cleaner. 

We are little more than obstacles for Him to step over.

But He lets us make new because He’s making us new.

Heidi leans in close to the wall, sprays the baseboard, wipes.

“Look, Mommy! I’m making it new!”

I smile and kiss the top of her head. “Yes, babygirl. That’s exactly what you’re doing.”

{May you enjoy making-new along with Jesus this week. Thanks for reading.}