We're updating our home.

There was a period of time yesterday when all the old windows were out, and there was nowhere for me to sit or stand without awkwardly gawking at some poor individual trying to put the new ones up.

And the knocking is incessant. They're ripping down our old builder-grade vinyl siding and replacing it with new wood-look composite cladding.

These are beautiful, wonderful blessings that are very difficult for my brain to process for reasons I've mentioned before.

I went to bed at six when everything was quiet and stayed blanketed in a prayerful stupor until I woke up this morning.

This is the kind of thing that used to bother me, but now I know it's just the way God has wound me so that I can tick without hesitation.

And what a brilliant metaphor when you think about it–how uncomfortable we all are as He tears away our old and tacks up the new, the painful feel of nails into flesh, crucified with our Lord.

And the brilliant way it feels to be something other than ourselves.