Carpenter's Covering

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty."
Psalm 91:1 (NIV)

I have a roof over my head. Yes, the bathroom floor is starting to peel away from its surface, the bathtub needs an overhaul, the walls require a new coat of paint and the kitchen could use a makeover. I don't believe a lot of anything has been changed in my humble abode since it was built about thirty-five years ago, which is about the same amount of time I've been roaming the halls and exploring the rooms of earth. However, the difference is that it's impossible for the human to remain stagnant.

With the rhythm of life - awakening to the sound of chirping birds (and more often than not, the less cheerful noise of the 7 a.m. alarm), the 8:30 a.m. work start, the first coffee of the day (one cream, no sugar - been that way for a while), the monthly bills...the list goes on and on - comes change, gradual or sudden. Either way, there's no escaping it. There are the nagging whispers of emergent crevices ruining my once clean slate of membrane that is supposed to present a polished portrait. Then, there are the annoying repairs required due to structural damage by blunt force or simple degeneration. I've experienced both. However, I guess if one is going to throw oneself down a hill as one balances oneself on two narrow pieces of fiberglass without any formal training and any trace of formidable athleticism, maybe miserable repairs are just a given (thankfully, my broken foot has recovered now).

Despite the many disagreements we have with one another in this world, no human would argue that change is inevitable. Let's face it. We are born and then eventually we die and so on and on it goes. These two events catapult change into high gear. I am not a parent myself but I've been told that anyone who becomes a new mother or father deals with the most phenomenal level of change. Death, in my opinion, is no different. It's just through one experience you gain and the other you lose. Both are equally profound.

So, we enter and we exit. I typically use an elevator to get to the office. I embark and then disembark after a few seconds (except for the one time when I spent 30 minutes in there...another story for another day). Meanwhile, I dwell inside this box and trust that it will deliver me to my final destination, fully expecting to arrive safe and sound. As I dwell, I am either ascending or descending. Life's like that. I'm a surfer who experiences the highs and lows as I inherently ride the tides of change. The question is whether there's been a metamorphosis inside me as I navigate. I cannot control the inescapable but I can consciously choose how it shapes my heart.

Yes, my home needs some work but it's a safe and secure dwelling place in my name. I have faith that I will have a roof over my head when I get home from work. However, and more importantly, I have confidence that I have a covering over my heart. It's made of angel wings and the stuff of untainted, immovable and unchanging love. No need to pull out any more tools or paint because the carpenter has taken up permanent residence and his work is finished. Until my earthbound eyes can fully visualize the divine makeover through heavenly revelation, thank God this carpenter and I navigate life, with all its change, together. Meanwhile, since the red carpet has already been rolled out for me, I now eagerly anticipate arrival on the golden carpet, all the while making my dwelling place in the shelter of the Most High and my haven in the shadow of the Almighty.