“There
was a significant amount of deferred maintenance present throughout the
property and exterior grounds at the time of the inspection, and this property
probably needs significant renovation, remodeling, refurbishment, or rehabilitation.”
That was the opening statement on the
inspector’s reports for the home my wife and I were considering buying. The location was where we wanted. The yard was what we wanted. Buying this house would eliminate 6 to 8
hours of drive time per week for us. It
even had a pool (of course the above mentioned “deferred maintenance” also
extended to the pool, which had a small tree or two growing in it).
For most people, a house like this one is
the perfect invitation to look elsewhere.
I’m not a do-it-yourself guy who loves this kind of thing. We’re not house flippers. And, the reality is the investment of time
and energy, not to mention money, can seem overwhelming. But we still bought it. Why?
Because we saw what it could be.
Yes, it had been neglected and had fallen into serious disrepair, but we
knew what was once a nice house could be a nice house again.
In pastoral and
clinical counseling sessions, I’ve worked with a lot of couples who have
allowed their marriages to fall into disrepair because of “a significant amount
of deferred maintenance.” At first, they
talked freely, but over time it became easier to just not talk at all. For a while, husband and wife always saw the
best in each other, but eventually all they could see was animosity in the
relationship. Responsibility and
accountability were a cornerstone of security in the relationship, but
eventually blame and a victim mentality eroded the foundation. Lovers used to be able to come home to
intimacy, but less and less physical contact led to a non-existent emotional
connection. Patience and forgiveness
were freely given and received, but eventually only broken promises and grudges
tarnished the landscape. Slowly, what
was once a beautiful, Christ-centered, haven of goodness and blessing became a
gloomy eyesore that only brought anxiety and pain.
And just like
with the house, rather than remembering what was and seeing what it could be again,
it became easier to look elsewhere.
Sometimes it was with another person, either physically or
emotionally. Sometimes it was through
work or hobbies. Sometimes it was
through alcohol, or drugs, or pornography, or other addictions. Sometimes it was through an overpowering
apathy that caused one or both spouses to just become numb.
Our house didn’t
go from a beautiful home to a fixer-upper overnight. It took a long time to get to the state of
disrepair it was in when we bought it, and we knew it wouldn’t become what we
knew it could be overnight. It was going
to take a serious investment from us in every way. At times it has been frustrating. At times we have wanted to quit. Often, we’ve asked ourselves, “Is this really
worth it?” But the thing that keeps us
going is hope—hope that something so much better is coming, hope that we don’t
have to live in…well…hopelessness. Every
accomplishment, every freshly painted wall, every new piece of flooring, every
time another room in the house is transformed, our hope is renewed and we press
on, knowing we are making a house our home.
When a
marriage falls into “a significant amount of deferred maintenance,” it did not
happen overnight, and it will heal overnight.
Trust will have to be restored.
Intimacy will have to be rekindled.
Couples will have to re-learn selfless love over selfish
expectations. Healthy boundaries will
have to be redrawn. Transparency will
have to be renewed. But it can be
done. And as the relationship is being
rebuilt, celebrate victories (no matter how large or small), and above all else,
hold on to hope—the hope that our God is a God of restoration, and he can
restore your covenant marriage.
