| Sam and I went to the University of Tennessee – and just recently graduated about a year ago now. Tennessee and the University of Tennessee are known for a lot of things. Some big things like being in the South, having people that talk with a little twang and say “ya’ll” a lot, people that love Tennessee football, and having some of the best BBQ on earth. The University of Tennessee is known for a really big thing though – even bigger than the previous one’s I mentioned. Construction. From the day I stepped foot on campus until the day I left, there wasn’t a single day, or moment rather, where I didn’t witness construction of all kinds. Streets closed off, buildings demolished with piles of ash and rubble in their old basins, new bridges being mended together, and the list goes on. It was and is a construction town. If you didn’t know, our mascot is Smokey, the coonhound. Construction got so regular that I think we should have seriously considered ditching Smokey and making our mascot an orange cone. Our colors are that bright hunting orange anyways – it seems to make sense. During our time at UT, Sam and I did about all there was to do. Specifically, our freshmen year, when we roomed together with two other guys. Going to the same high school before college, we were familiar with each other, but not close. It didn’t take too many days of rooming together at UT to figure out we were both passionate, fearless, convinced of our own invincibility and out to grab life by the horns to get the most out of every second. Most of all we just liked to have fun, and we were both master schemers at coming up with plans on the fly to do just that. Down for anything and always up for a challenge, we found ourselves in hilarious and gutsy situations more often than not. There’s something fun about being high places. On top of cars, up on roofs, climbing tree’s, whatever it is. Think about it. It’s like a special privilege to get up high somewhere and see things from a different angle. It’s the challenge of the climb. Even as a kid, I remember being little and getting put up on my Dad’s shoulders either out walking around or in the pool rough-housing – and that always seemed special to be up there. I was higher than the world. There’s something even more fun about being places you’re not supposed to be. The dare of breaking the rules. The thrill of evading capture or getting caught. Things are always more fun this way – when you’re not allowed to be somewhere or you’re not supposed to do a certain thing. Beer supposedly tastes better before 21. Why? Because it’s against the law. Being out past curfew when you’re a kid is a blast for the same reason – there are limits on how late we are supposed to be out – set by our parents, the law, or whoever it is. When we would sneak out of my house as kids, we would go out the back door. This back door wasn’t your typical “just open the door, walk out and shut it quietly behind you” kind of door. This door was loud. It would creak and moan in every way imaginable. The second the door opened it would unleash noises that resembled the zoo as it echoed out over the backyard and up the stairs to my parent\u2019s room above. This was a pain and a hindrance to getting out late at night. At the same time, it made it all the more dangerously fun. It was ritual. There was a bathroom in our kitchen a good 10-15 feet away from the zoo door. Each time we would make the journey out into the night, my friends and I would tip toe downstairs and across the kitchen floor where everyone would line up at the door. Next, the diversion. One of us would go over to the bathroom nearby and on the count of three, we would flush the toilet. Once the toilet was flushed, there was a good 5.5 seconds to open the door and run out, the flusher included, and shut the door behind. We would mask the noise of the zoo door under the swirling toilet which to us sounded like a tsunami in the dead of night. The perfect cover. It was fun to leave the house because we were all supposed to be upstairs sleeping. Being on top of high places and being where you’re not supposed to be – mixing these two things together is a guaranteed good time. It wasn’t long before Sam and I figured that out. There’s an infamous math hall at the University of Tennessee – Ayres Hall. It’s the oldest standing building on campus and is legendary for its height and massive clock tower at the top. No matter where you’re standing on campus, you can see Ayres. There’s an old myth, one that says there was a time when you could go atop Ayres hall. It was allowed. You could literally come out on top of its peak and look down on the world. If you know anything about Tennessee, you know that Tennessee loves football. Neyland stadium holds a screaming 110,000 people on Saturdays. It’s like a modern-day colosseum, times two or three. Supposedly, you used to be able to get on top of Ayres hall and look down into Neyland to watch the games. Ayres is right next to Neyland Stadium and would provide the optimum view of both the stadium and pretty much anything else you wanted to see within miles. After spending a few months on campus as freshmen, Sam and I decided we were going to get on top of Ayres and see that view for ourselves. We were confident, though we knew it wouldn’t be that easy. There was no public access like before, and we imagined it would be guarded or at the very least locked. We took our first mission to scout it out during the day. We walked into Ayres and got on the elevator pressing the highest floor number we could go to. Stepping off the elevator we looked around and surveyed the halls, looking for any sign of roof access. It was not in plain sight. We tried the stairs next. Climbing up another floor, we felt we were getting close. It became clear on that next floor we were out of place as only people wearing University staff clothing with badges and keys were walking around. One man looked at us puzzled. Up until this point it had been a sneak around mission, we were trying to find the answers ourselves and look for an entry point unnoticed. When that didn’t really pan out, I thought why not just ask to get on the roof? We approached the man. “Scuse me. Do you have the keys to get on the roof?” “Huh?!” he said back, probably not sure if he heard us right. “Do you know how to get on the roof? Or do you have the keys?” I asked him again. “Uhh…No. Only one guy has those” he mumbled back. I wasn’t discouraged, we would just find that guy. “Ok great, do you know who it is?” I asked him excitedly. “No, sorry” he murmured sheepishly. Back to square one. We left Ayres feeling a little defeated but continued to brainstorm on the walk home. “What if we just threw a football on top of Ayers and then someone would have to take us up there and help get it down for us?” Sam thought out loud. Genius. I loved it. We could at least then figure out where the access point was and if we needed a key or a code to get through. The gears were turning. That idea faded pretty quickly when we realized neither one of us could throw a football that high to get it stuck in the first place. The days of walking up and around and over and through and on top of construction continued. There was a massive crane behind the business building where the new University Center was being built. A crane bigger and taller than I had ever seen. This thing scraped the stars, and it almost became a staple on our campus as it lurched there day after day. Looking up at the enormous crane, I knew I had found the answer to our Ayres problem. Coming back to the dorms after class I kicked open the door to Sam’s room. “Dude, I know what we’re going to do”. “What??” Sam laughed back, he could see the idea lighting up behind my eyes. “You know that massive crane outside by the business building?” I asked eagerly. “Yeah!” Sam smirked back. “We’re gonna\u2019 climb it” I declared. Sam let out a laugh and without hesitating chirped back, “I’m in, let’s do it”. Sam is the kind of guy you want with you when you’re going to climb a crane. This is a good quality to have in a friend.Shortly after we decided we were going to climb the crane, we decided we would go for it on impulse. We made no plans of what night we would scale the skyscraper crane that towered over UT and seemingly the entire state of Tennessee. We would just go and do it when we felt the time was right. We did exactly that. On a quiet night in the middle of the week, I had just come home and was sitting in my dorm passing time. That’s when I got the text. “You here?” it read from Sam. “Sam!” I yelled over to his room to let him know I was home, calling him over to my side of the dorm. He leaned in the door frame, “What’s up?” he said with a grin. “You doing anything tonight?” “No plans” I shot back. “Tonight’s the night. Let’s climb this thing.” he proposed with his smirk growing wider. “Tonight?? Let’s do it.”, I was all in. We took off into the night. Making our way down through campus and eventually close enough to see the outline of the giant crane outlined against the sky, hovering over Neyland Stadium and all that was near. We were moving with a purpose, excited to get there and approach the massive beast of a crane. Once we got within a hundred yards of the area, we surveyed the campus carefully. Rather than walk right up to the crane under the lights we decided to take a little bit more of an unconventional approach, ducking behind buildings and keeping low to the ground as we inched closer. When we arrived to the fence surrounding the crane it wasn’t much of a challenge to pass through it. Clearly nobody was too worried about anyone climbing the crane, and being a few feet away looking straight up at it made it easy to understand why. It had stormed the night before and our shoes were caked in mud long before we even began to take our approach. Face to face with the tower now, we spotted a thin ladder that stretched to the top. Well, we couldn’t exactly see the top because it was too high but we felt like that’s where it probably led. We jumped to grab the first rung as it was 8 or so feet high, pulling ourselves up into the ladder cage. About half way up I stopped to look around and see how far we’d made it. When I was done taking in our surroundings I glanced up to say something to Sam – he was already gone. He scaled the crane like Spidey himself. I could hardly see him above me anymore, being reminded of his presence only through the sound of his sneakers hitting the next rung some 20 feet above me in the pitch black. Finally, we reached the summit. There was silence between us as we took in the sights, literally aweing at just how far up we were. We could see inside the stadium, just as we had hoped to do at the top of Ayres. Not only that, but we could see the top of Ayres. We had trumped it by a story. We made sure to yell at a few people walking by down below to let it be known we had climbed the crane. I don’t think we were too worried about getting in trouble or being identified at that point – we were so high up nobody would be able to see our bodies let alone make out our faces. We were kings of the crane. For those brief moments, all of that dismal construction seemed worth it. We tend to avoid construction, and that’s probably a good idea if it’s out on the street and you don’t enjoy climbing cranes like Sam and I do. But if we avoid the construction on our hearts, we’ll miss out on all the things God is trying to teach us. God’s plans for us are so immensely purposeful that the blueprints are worth trusting, even if your heart looks something like a broken-down shack. Trusting that those plans are good and that they are designed intentionally for you can be hard – but when we’re able to do that and embrace those plans – I think we ditch the shack and our hearts end up looking more like the Taj Mahal. Construction when it comes to our own hearts can be scary. Usually because it means we’re changing if we’re doing it right, and change is scary. We avoid it for some of the same reasons we avoid construction in our cities. It’s ugly. It makes our normal routines and routes more difficult to adhere to. It forces change from the places we are most comfortable. It can last long periods of time. We’re not in control of it. It’s difficult to see the end in mind when the present state is bleak and broken. There’s more, but every reason you can think of for why you have such a disdain for street construction is more often than not one of the reasons you’re avoiding the construction of your own heart. Where do we go from here? The good news is, the opposite also rings true. Many of the reasons we set out to complete a construction project or renovation in the first place are the same benefits of the heart when we allow God to work and take part in that work. We become new. We are made whole. We are beautiful. We are a site for all to see and wonder at, in awe of the works of art we are. We are robust, sturdy and resilient. We are designed to serve with a new and better purpose. Something important my Dad has taught me is that you are always becoming who you are. It’s true. God designed each of us with something special in mind. If we’re living right, we’re constantly being renovated, consistently tearing down walls and putting up new fixtures, hanging lights in dark rooms we haven’t stepped in for years, and confronting the stuff in the basement. We are becoming who we are. There’s one big thing I’ve learned when it comes to becoming that person. In order to become who you are, you must be able to give up, at any moment, who you are for who you will become. That is a difficult and sometimes terrifying thing, one that is much easier to write than to do. You have to be willing to part with who you are right now at this moment for who you will become. It would be a lie that this is a pain free deal. In C.S. Lewis’ Narnia series, there’s a character named Eustace Scrubb. Eustace knows a thing or two about becoming who you are. That’s because he did it, and he did it the hard way. In his journey, Eustace is turned from a greedy and cowardly boy into a dragon. He has fallen as low as he can and longs to be human again. After he has been a dragon for quite some time, Aslan approaches him. Aslan guides Eustace to a well and tells him to undress before getting in the water. Being a dragon, Eustace isn’t quite sure how he’s supposed to undress. He begins clawing at his own skin, trying to shed it like that of a snake. He’s able to pull some scales off, but under it, he finds another layer of scales. Again, he peels and scratches at the next layer of scales. Underneath it, there is another layer. Trying a third time, he is met with – you guessed it – another layer of scales. He is hopeless and powerless to undress from his own dragon skin. Eustace recounts to his cousin what happened next in this story. \u201cThen the lion said\u2014but I don\u2019t know if it spoke\u2014\u2019You will have to let me undress you.\u2019 I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it. The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I\u2019ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off\u2026. Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off\u2014just as I thought I\u2019d done it myself the other three times, only they hadn\u2019t hurt\u2014and there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobbly-looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me\u2014I didn\u2019t like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I\u2019d no skin on\u2014and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I\u2019d turned into a boy again. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it myself…. It sort of hurt, but it was a good pain<\/em>. you know, like when you pull a thorn from your foot.” Eustace admitted he was powerless to change himself. He needed the help of Aslan, and only Aslan could change him. Aslan also knew that the boy needed to become the dragon and then be stripped of his scales to become who he was truly made to be. He was made new, and it’s no coincidence he was thrown into water when having his scales removed. This was the baptism of a dragon. And a boy shedding his dragon skin, becoming who he was made to be. Work worth doing is never easy. Sometimes it’s hard to believe the pain and difficulty we must go through to become who we are, but the truth is that God has even more unbelievable plans for our hearts. We want the beautiful finished renovations without the struggle, without the sacrifice of what it takes to get there. The most beautiful hearts probably started out looking something like Eustace, the dragon. They have endured times where heavy maintenance was needed, and things were dark and desolate. Think about the most beautiful and intrinsically special people you know in your life. I’m willing to bet that most if not all of them have been through valley’s where their hearts were tested and transformed from full blown construction zones. Their beauty is the result of them being willing to embrace those changes in their life and allowing Aslan to tear off their scales. It’s easy to walk past the construction zones in our hearts, avoid them, save them for another time, or just pretend we don’t see them. The real wonder happens when we learn to run towards the construction God is doing on our hearts, not away from it. Staying present in painful places expands the heart in ways that fleeing never will, and if we’re willing to embrace the renovations of our heart, we’ll reach new places that we would not have been able to otherwise. New bridges are built leading us to purpose, brand new windows are put up giving us a clearer view and perspective, and our very own floor plan expands that was seemingly crumbling in on its old self before. The next time you feel like just walking past the construction..climb the crane. There’s a view at the top that’s worthwhile. <\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Renovations of the Heart Sam and I went to the University of Tennessee – and just recently graduated about a year ago now. Tennessee and the University of Tennessee are known for a lot of things. Some big things like being in the South, having people that talk with a little twang and say “ya’ll”…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","content-type":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"WB4WB4WP_MODE":"","WB4WP_PAGE_SCRIPTS":"","WB4WP_PAGE_STYLES":"","WB4WP_PAGE_FONTS":"","WB4WP_PAGE_HEADER":"","WB4WP_PAGE_FOOTER":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-520","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/520"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=520"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/520\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":521,"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/520\/revisions\/521"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=520"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=520"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/grantkennethtaylor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=520"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}} |