We are entering year six of building our home. This weekend, I removed nails from tongue and groove boards which we salvaged from an old church building. After the nails were gone, I started the clean up process by running them through the planer. Thick layers of varnish and fifty-year-old paint peeled off revealing the beautiful pine underneath.

As I stuck the last board in the spinning wheels of the planer, my thumb caught a large splinter sticking out of the side of the wood. It sliced my skin and left a long sliver stuck inside my thumb. I let the board finish planning and went inside to clean and sanitize my new wound.

When the soap hit the hole, suddenly the pain showed up. My knee-jerk response was to quit washing it and make the pain stop, but then the reality of infection came to mind. If I don’t thoroughly wash this wound and make sure the whole splinter is out, I risk my skin growing around this foreign object and my whole thumb reaping the consequences instead of just this little spot.

Cleaning up this wood is a huge task. Removing layers of paint and varnish in order to restore the wood to its natural beauty is time consuming. After the nails are pulled, the wood is planed then begins the sanding process. All the edges where paint was lathered must be given the appropriate attention. I’ve had several injuries in the clean-up process—splinters, smashed fingers, bruises, bumps on the head, nail pokes, squished toes—but every painful piece was worth it once I saw the wood on the ceiling in our new house.

The restoration process in life is also a huge task. Removing layers of hurt, shame, pain, and guilt to reveal our true heart of beauty is tough. Our rough, protective edges must be sanded down with forgiveness and repentance. Other stuff gunks up the edges too—bitterness, loneliness, rejection, grief—which makes sanding all the more difficult at times. The pain from this process is intense often resulting in job change, loss of friendships, or eradication of a habit or bad behavior. But, once the painful parts are dealt with, oh the beauty our life beholds as we experience hope, joy, peace, love, acceptance, and redemption. No more deep splinters creating infection, but instead, washed out wounds healing back to wholeness.

Do you feel that nudge to start peeling back the layers? Does it seem like falling apart is eminent? Are you worried about what you will lose? Don’t be afraid. The pain is temporary, but the freedom Jesus can help you walk in, if you let him do the cleaning up, is worth every ounce of pain. Do it before the infection gets too deep.