Stress. Renovating projects and moving house and changing jobs are all rated highly on the stress indicator tables. Add to that the PTSS and depression of the previous two years, and I can excuse my instant explosions.

That angry tongue.

Those hateful words.

The impatient temper which explodes just when I'm not expecting it.

I even - yes, I confess to this too - I even hit the dog. Not hard, but still. I hit her, because she was leaping up at a visitor: trained already by our lovely workmen (they truly are, always cheerful and hardworking even in the recent freezingly cold weather) to leap as they tease her with their sandwiches. I've only recently discovered this and they do't do it anymore. But old habits die hard, especially in Labradors eager for any tidbit. Exasperated by her disobedience and desire to jump, I scolded and then lashed out, impatient, angry, on a short fuse.

And in front of a wonderful young Christian who had come on Saturday to help us work on the house.

So that's where I was last week.

On a short fuse.

It kept hitting me too, that short fuse. Exploded externally, nagged internally.

But Sunday. And the sweetness of the Lord came pouring in as the tears poured out.

"This is the air I breathe ... and I, I, I - I'm lost without You, I'm desperate for You."

Worship at The Bath and Avon Vineyard. The Spirit convicting.

Lord, change me. I'm desperate for You to change me. I can't seem to get rid of this short fuse.

* * * *

He sent me Words. Words I have known for years but had forgotten. From Amy Carmichael's small but profound book IF -

If a sudden jar can cause me to speak an impatient, unloving word, then I know nothing of Calvary love. For a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, however suddenly jolted.

I need Calvary Love. HIS love, pouring into me, loving others through me, filling me to the brim with His sweetness and patience and grace.

So I kneel at the foot of His Cross, conscious once again of that all powerful Love. LOVE that died for me and my short fuse. LOVE that can flood me. LOVE - the first of the fruit of the Spirit.

The Cross we found (in the floor joists!) is now in the Chapel

I welcome His love in and drink deeply. Oh, LOVE, that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee ...

I'm still on a short fuse. But I've handed the fuse to Him.

* * * *

SATURDAY was another work day. The final wall came down, to create the kitchen. And the ceiling came down in one of the attic bedrooms. That's the end of demolishing; now we start putting it all together. YAY!

Making a new home. Here, at Mays Farm.

A place we intend to be a spiritual sanctuary for those in need of space and solitude and shelter; a moment away from life's vagaries and vicissitudes.

A house goes through many changes in its lifetime.

And this one, this one, in its 400 years of history, has seen so much come and go. We are but the latest to inflict change upon it. This front house is a new addition - the late 17th Century part added on at right angles to the original early 17th Century farmhouse behind it (which is still there, the kitchen still in all its primitive glory)

It looked idyllic when we first saw it, in the summer sunshine. Never guessed what lay beneath the surface.

And now the bare bones are laid out for all to see.

It looks pitiful.

Ancient wood joists, barely holding the house together. Now treated for rot and worm, they lie there, daring me to imagine this as a place of beauty and balm and benefaction.

Can these dry bones live?

Can mine? Can yours?

In the pain and the depression it sometimes feels that all my joists are exposed, all my bones dead and lifeless, I am without hope.

Then someone prayed over me, ten days ago. Knowing little of what I have been through, how I feel; but knowing we are undertaking a Large Project of a House. She saw this renovation as the mirror of the renovation in my life.

And I knew that pain and suffering, whatever form they take, can, if God is allowed to be at work, be the stripping down, the paring back. Necessary for the work of restoration and renovation to occur.

Right now, I am lying, joists exposed, work being done, painful treatment occurring.

But these bones will live again.

New life will come again.

Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. Ezekial 37:5

And so I look at my poor home, and I look at my poor spirit; and in gratitude I give thanks for the renovation and restoration that will one day lead to a thing of beauty, living and vibrant.

The house will take several months; I will take eternity.

Eternity - to be made into His likeness. And HE is the true beauty.

2 Corinthians 3:18 "And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit."

I will be blogging more about the house and how it is getting on and the beginning of the new ministry here. SO why not sign up (box is up on the righthand side above) to have the posts delivered straight to your email inbox, then you won't miss what's happening!