Joy Is Your Strength: What Building an Old Home Taught Me

In every home we build, before the sheetrock goes up and the paint covers the bones of the thing, we write scripture on the framing. It is one of my favorite parts of the whole process. Nobody will ever see it again once the walls close in, but we will always know it is there, holding the house up from the inside.

This house was no different. Except this house was.

I never met the woman who lived in this house. The neighbors were the ones who told us her story, that she loved this place for decades, that it was hers in every way that mattered, right up until she passed. Stepping into her home meant stepping into a love story I was not part of. I did not know her, but I inherited what she built, and that meant something to me from the very beginning.

What I fell in love with first was the character. The bones of it, the story already living in the walls, the potential I could see even though the house itself could not show it to me yet. But once we actually got in there to do the work, it was in pretty bad shape. And we knew, if we were going to save it, we could not just patch it. We had to take it all the way down to the studs. Strip it back to what was actually true and solid underneath everything that had worn away.

We added an addition, put a whole new plan together, and set out to bring it back to life. Not back to what it used to be. Back to a new kind of beauty. A vision that was going to look completely different than the one that woman had lived inside for all those years, and different than what I first imagined too.

That day, standing in the framing, I wrote this verse.

The joy of the Lord is my strength.

What I Was Really Writing On That Wall

I did not write it there because the house was finished. It was not close. But I have learned something about myself in the process of building things. I used to believe joy was what you felt once something was done. Once the reveal happened. Once the life or the project or the version of me finally looked put together enough to be proud of. I would tell myself, I will feel it once this is finished.

I like to joke that I am a recovering perfectionist, because that is exactly how I wanted things to be. Put together. Presentable. Finished before anyone got close enough to see what was actually going on underneath. In the hard seasons of my life, the ones that actually cost me something, I would feel less than and isolated, and I would not let people in because I was embarrassed of what they might see. It felt safer to disappear into the work than to be found in the middle of the mess.

That belief shaped more of my life than I realized.

Where that verse actually comes from

That line comes from Nehemiah 8:10, and the story behind it is worth knowing. The people it was written to had just heard the truth about how much of their life was broken, and they were devastated. Nehemiah did not tell them to sit in that grief longer or to fix themselves before they were allowed to feel good again. He told them the opposite. Stop grieving, because the joy of the Lord is going to be what actually gives you the strength to rebuild.

They had not finished anything yet. They were standing in rubble, in the middle of a project that looked impossible, and they were told the joy was available right then. Not after. Right there in the mess.

Joy was never supposed to be the finish line

I always thought joy was the reward waiting for me on the other side of finished. Get the thing built, get the life together, get the numbers up, and then I could finally relax into feeling good about it. But joy does not work that way. It is not something you earn by getting everything right.

Here is how I have come to understand it, and it is actually something I try to teach my own kids. There is an order to this. Get right with what is true first, that is the righteousness part, not performing, just being honest about where you stand. Once you are honest, the fighting inside you settles down, that is the peace. And joy shows up after that, not because you worked for it, but because the inside of you finally got quiet enough to feel it. I have said some version of this to my kids more times than I can count. You do not have to earn feeling good. You just have to stop lying to yourself about where you actually are, and the peace and the joy will follow.

I spent a long time trying to perform my way to feeling good enough to enjoy my own life. And it never worked, because I had the order backwards. Joy was never on the other side of finished. It was available the whole time, in the framing, in the mess, in the middle of the build.

What this actually looks like day to day

Here is where it gets practical, because I do not think you are supposed to just feel inspired by this. I think you are supposed to use it.

• If you are waiting to feel proud of your home until it is fully decorated, let yourself enjoy it half done.
• If you are waiting to feel proud of your body until it looks a certain way, let yourself feel strong in it today.
• If you are waiting to feel proud of your marriage until it looks like the version you pictured, let yourself find something good in it this week, as it actually is.
• If you are waiting to feel proud of your business or your dream until it finally takes off, let yourself feel joy in the building of it right now, today, before anyone else can see what it is becoming.

That is the whole shift. Stop treating joy like the finish line and start treating it like the fuel.

What the framing actually taught me

Standing in that unfinished house taught me to see potential before proof. To believe something good was happening even when it still looked like rubble. That is exactly what I had to learn to do with my own joy too. Now I am learning the opposite of hiding. Letting people see the framing instead of waiting for the finished room.

Joy was never the reward for the work. Joy is what you build with.

If you are standing in your own framing right now, walls not up, mess still in the corners, nothing finished yet, this is your verse too. You do not have to wait for the reveal to let yourself feel strong. The strength was never on the other side of finished. It is here, in the middle, waiting on you to pick it up and keep building.

XO,