Before a builder starts to build something new, he must get rid of what is already there. He must clear the land. He must tear down the old in preparation for the new. He has to prepare, before he creates. He has to unmake before he remakes.
Right now The Lord is in the process of unmaking my heart. The same as when a builder clears the land, it’s a slow, tedious process. It’s messy, and most of the time no fun.
There is a time to plant and a time to uproot.
As I am entering into this new season, I’ve realized it’s one to be uprooted. One of change. Of growth. Of preparation. It’s a season in which my heart is being unmade, just so it could be made more like His.
There is such beauty in this process. Hidden in it there is one constant. The unmaking process is the ever present promise that The Builder is about to build something new.
He first just has to uproot me.
There is a time to plant and a time to uproot. (Ecclesiastes 3:2)
I am currently sitting in a tree house, overlooking an orphanage in the Sek Yom, Cambodia. Children are laughing. Riding bikes. Playing soccer. Singing at the top of their lungs. Red dirt covers the ground, and lightly coats anything you might happen to see. 36 orphans, 13 world racers, 2 toilets, 1 bucket shower, and lots of rice.
For the month of November, my new team and I will be living everyday life here. Loving on these sweet children. Laughing. Start gazing. Holding grubby hands. Braiding hair. Teaching. Singing. And occasionally farming.
There is something so beautiful about it all. About being un made. Up rooted. Prepared.
We are living life in it’s most simple, most pure, most raw state.
There is a time to plant and a time to uproot.
