My heart is a house, is a home, under construction.

My heart has been undergoing a renovation project—first the walls came down exposing the soft center of love.

And now the additions are being built—new rooms, more windows, back gardens, front lawns.

A fountain in the center.

Anyone whose lived through renovating a house knows it isn’t always fun. Sometimes its incredibly stressful, difficult decisions have to be made, things go over budget, you can’t get the kitchen tile you wanted, you have to step over tools, walk through plastic, and live in limbo. You have to communicate and negotiate with your partner, carpenter, contractor and your parents you’ve moved in with while the work is being done.

My heart is a house, is a home, under construction.

I’ve hung signs in the window— “Caution: Exposed Wiring” and “Please excuse the mess, we’re remaking ourselves here.“

And along with the moments of joy and the moments of stress come the moments of fear as I have no plans for this project. I forgot to hire an architect to make tidy drawings of how my heart-home would look at the end of the day.

I imagine the worst. I imagine the best.

Then if I’m lucky and grace is on the job I have moments of letting go. I give in, I listen, I cry.

I hope the crew doesn’t see me like this. But inevitably they do.

Inevitably my renovated heart can’t be kept under wraps but must be shared with everyone. Must be lived in. Must be a place where I can entertain and throw tea parties. Even though the work will never be done. Even though the wiring will probably always be exposed.

Even though it hurts.

What are you building these days?