It’s been a busy couple of weeks. We have lived in our home for a year and a half now, and like many, we have a room that serves as the heart of our home yet somehow lacks a soul. For us, that room is the lounge. It’s where we spend most of our time, where we connect after a long day, and where we indulge in the simple joy of cosying up on the sofa to watch a bit of trash TV (and let’s be clear, this is a no-judgment zone). Despite its importance, the room itself has never felt quite right. The sofas were awkwardly placed, and the plain white walls didn’t so much say ‘welcome’ as they did ‘we haven’t got around to it yet’. The room gasped for a bit of personality.
Then, I woke up the other Wednesday with a sudden, unshakeable conviction: it was time to do something about it.
Thus began the familiar modern ritual of home renovation. I started by looking for ideas, even using AI to help visualise what the space could become. Julia and I worked together, scrolling through styles and designs, trying to land on a shared vision. Honestly, AI has its uses in these moments; being able to see what a certain rug, shelf, or TV unit might look like in your actual room before you commit your hard-earned money is a stroke of brilliance. It helps you avoid that gut-wrenching moment of realisation when the delivery arrives and it’s just… not right.
After choosing all the bits we needed—paint, brushes, rollers, furniture, and a seemingly never-ending list of ancillaries—it was time for me to get DIY-ing.
The DIYer’s Creed: YouTube, Hubris, and a Test of Patience
Now, I don’t mind a bit of DIY. I quite like the challenge of it, the process of learning a new skill and seeing a tangible result. My phone, sensing my intentions, suddenly filled my social media feeds with Reels of decorating gurus making perfect cut-in lines with a single, effortless brushstroke, no tape required. YouTube became my trusted mentor. I felt equipped and ready.
However, I will also be the first to admit that DIY is not my natural go-to. But, I am the man of the house, and with that comes a certain, perhaps primal, urge to get stuck in, to provide, to fix, to build. And this, I believe, is precisely where God decided to intervene. He saw my intentions, my pride, and my schedule, and identified the perfect opportunity to help me work on my patience. He’s good like that, isn’t He? He chooses those perfect, pressure-cooker moments in life to gently—or sometimes, not so gently—mould you into the person He knows you really are: patient, loving, kind… and ideally, someone who doesn’t swear at inanimate objects.
Setback Number One: The Telly and the Treacherous Screw
The plan was simple. We’d chosen a beautiful, deep colour, a cross between a teal and a dark blue, for a single feature wall, with the other walls remaining a crisp white. I’d also ordered a new TV unit. Our television was currently mounted on the wall, but we liked the idea of standing it on the unit to free up wall space for pictures and art that would bring more of our personality into the room.
The first job, therefore, was to take the TV off the wall and fill in the holes. That part was easy. I’m quite good at filling and smoothing things out—others may have a different opinion, but in my own mind, I’m a master. First job done. Tick.
Next, I needed to re-attach the original stand to the TV. Now, I have had this Sony TV for the best part of 11 years. It’s not a fancy, wafer-thin smart TV, but it’s a brilliant telly that has served us faithfully. It was at this precise moment I discovered I was, in fact, about to be in the market for a new TV. I had taken one of the screws for the stand and begun to secure it. As I twisted the screwdriver, it just kept going. It never seemed to tighten. A small, warning voice in my head thought, hmmm, this is going in quite far. My thought was immediately followed by the sickening sight of the front TV panel popping out a fair bit from the frame.
“Oh, bother” springs to mind, though the sentiment at the time was perhaps a little stronger. The TV still turned on, but the viewing experience was now permanently marred by an ironically white-shaped cross at the bottom of the screen.
In the aftermath, Julia was wonderfully complimentary, remarking how impressed she was that I didn’t a) get really angry, or b) say a single swear word. I mentally added a little star to my good behaviour chart, blissfully unaware that my patience was only just beginning its workout.
Setback Number Two: The Perils of Paint and Peeling Tape
On to the painting. Full of confidence from the YouTube tutorials, I attempted my first bit of cutting in. The videos made it look so simple, so elegant. My attempt was neither. Instead of a single, perfect line, I now had nice blue blobs, marks, and streaks on the very white walls I was trying to avoid repainting. Frustration is a mild word for the mood I was in at this point.
So, out came the masking tape. I meticulously taped everything up and got to work. The result was much better. The lines were crisp, the coverage was good. I felt a sense of accomplishment returning.
That is, of course, until I went to peel the tape off. In my eagerness, I had made the classic mistake of leaving it on for too long. As I pulled the tape away, it brought with it several patches of the beautiful new blue paint. My heart sank. To top it all off, I had used the very last of the paint. I stood there, looking at the patchy, ruined wall, and I said nothing. I just thought, oh well, pulled out my phone, ordered a new tin, and resolved to wait for its arrival.
Of course, as my planned two-day project stretched into a week and then some, our lounge and, by extension, our entire house, began to fill up with boxes, dust sheets, and decorating debris. It was feeling a little stressful, if I am honest. I am not a fan of mess, and we were living right in the middle of it.
Eventually, the paint arrived. I finished the feature wall. I ordered a new TV (thank you, Amazon Prime deals). I repainted the white walls—in one instance, five times—to cover up my earlier mistakes. I built the new furniture, laid the rug, and finally, last night, a whole week and a half after I started, the project was complete. The room is transformed. It’s brilliant.
The Unseen Presence in the Chaos
But this story isn’t just about decorating. It’s about a question that sits at the heart of my faith. Where was God in all of this? Where was He when I broke the TV, splashed paint on the wrong wall, had to redo work I’d already done, and had to spend money I didn’t intend to?
Well, I can honestly say He was right here with me, in the midst of it all. I know this because, during this entire episode, through every setback and frustration, I felt the most amazing and inexplicable peace within me. It was a quiet, steadying presence that helped me to slow down, to take my time, to not get stressed or upset. It was a profound sense of being able to lean into Him and trust Him, even in these seemingly trivial, testing situations.
This was not just a fleeting feeling. The Thursday after all the painting was finally done, I took Buckley for his walk. It was, without exaggeration, one of the easiest and calmest walks I have had with him for a very long time. It was as if this peace—a peace I could not explain or understand—was not just resting on me, but flowing out of me into the world around me.
Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7 (NLT)
That verse has never felt more real to me. The peace wasn’t logical. It exceeded understanding. In the face of mounting frustration, I should have been stressed. Instead, I was calm. That is the work of God.
What an awesome God we have. He cares and wants to be with us in the little things. He is not a distant deity, reserved only for life’s biggest crises. He is the God of our decorating disasters, our broken appliances, and our peeling paint. He is always with us. Perhaps, sometimes, we take that for granted. We look for Him in the grand and the spectacular, and we miss Him in the mundane.
And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows.
Luke 12:7 (NLT)
If God is interested in something as minute as the number of hairs on our heads, He is undoubtedly interested in the state of our hearts as we navigate the everyday frustrations of life. He sees these moments as opportunities.
Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles of any kind come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow. So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.
James 1:2-4 (NLT)
My DIY project was a trouble that tested me. It tested my patience, my skill, and my temper. And in that testing, God gave my endurance a chance to grow, all while blanketing me in His peace.
A Reflection for You
It’s important to take a step back and seek God in our current situations. Of course, sometimes we can’t see what He is doing until long after the trial has passed, but this week was a reminder to me that He is always there, working for our good.
As you reflect on this story, I invite you to consider your own life:
- Where is the “messy lounge” in your life right now? It might be a frustrating project, a difficult relationship, a stressful work situation, or a personal habit you’re trying to break.
- In those moments of frustration, when things go wrong, what is your first reaction? Is it anger, despair, or anxiety?
- Are you looking for God only in the “big things”—the major life events and crises? Or are you actively seeking His presence and His peace in the small, everyday struggles?
A Call to Action:
This week, I encourage you to try something simple. Pick one small, mundane, or potentially frustrating task that you need to do—washing the dishes, filling out some paperwork, sitting in traffic, or even just tidying a room. Before you begin, take a single, deep breath. Close your eyes for just a moment and say, “Lord, be with me in this. Help me to feel your peace.” Then, go about your task. Don’t look for a lightning bolt or a dramatic revelation. Just remain open to the possibility of a quiet, steadying calm in your soul. Invite God into the little things, and you might be amazed at the profound peace you find there.