Kitchen Renovation Stress, Returning Cats, and Learning to Rest
You might be thinking, “Well, last month’s blog was a bit of a departure from the usual.” Honestly, it was a pretty accurate reflection of where my head was during the renovations. Everything seemed to hit at once, and I had, shall we say, temporarily misplaced my composure, my vision, and my connection to God. Somewhere in all the renovation stress, it had become all about the doing.
“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” – Galatians 6:9
That verse sounds like the perfect encouragement to keep pushing, doesn’t it? But that was not the lesson I needed. Read on.
July 2025 continued in much the same way, with a whirlwind of painting and new kitchen cabinets. I had never designed a kitchen before, so I did the best I could and hoped the cabinets would cooperate. They arrived, and over the Fourth of July weekend, the old kitchen came out and the new one started going in. Naturally, the issues were not far behind. First came the plumbing. We could not make the existing setup work without pulling the cabinets an extra six inches from the wall. As I mentioned last month, the gap between the original countertop and the wall was already a place where a multitude of things went to die. Now, because the countertop was not long or deep enough to cover the new setup, crumbs and other small objects gained even more places to disappear. And shifting the cabinets meant the plumbing no longer lined up with the sink. We had compression fittings, regular fittings, and what felt like twenty trips to big-box stores more than twenty minutes away. By the end of it, I had learned one important lesson: plumbers are worth their weight in gold.
The message that gave me “paws”
Just when I thought the kitchen had claimed every bit of my attention, a message arrived that put the plumbing problems—and everything else—into perspective.
The year before, I had made the very difficult decision to give my cats to a young couple who loved animals because my then-future husband was extremely allergic. Those cats were the closest thing to children I had, so letting them go was heartbreaking beyond words. Still, I found comfort in knowing they were going to people who loved animals as much as I did—perhaps even more. After many tears, I said goodbye.
But life changed for the young couple, and after several setbacks, they were no longer able to care for the cats. I hated that their situation had become so difficult, but I was ecstatic to bring the cats home because the reason I had given them away no longer applied. Their return gave me two very good reasons to pause construction. First, the cats needed time to get reacquainted with me and the house; dust, pounding, and unfamiliar helpers would have been too much. Second, I needed a break from the relentless push to finish everything before I—and my main helper—completely ran out of steam. It turns out that even a self-appointed renovation foreman occasionally needs to call a timeout.
What a welcome break from the big push. For a little while, I could simply enjoy the finished living room and the nearly finished kitchen. The gap between the old countertop and the new cabinets—where interesting objects still found ways to disappear—remained, and the floor still bore the patch where a wall had once stood. But I had a couch, a usable kitchen, and, for once, no fresh layer of construction dust. The house was not finished, but for the first time in a while, I could breathe. And I could also listen.
“Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” – Psalm 27:14
It took the cats a few days to acknowledge my presence and a few weeks to stop snubbing me on a regular basis. I could hardly blame them. Those poor babies had been through so much in their lifetimes, and they deserved the time and space to settle in again.
So let this be a lesson—mostly to me. I am always eager to finish the next project, solve the next problem, and move on to whatever comes after that. Waiting can feel like wasted time. But learning to rest during a stressful home renovation reminded me that rest is not something I have to earn by finishing everything; sometimes it is what helps me hear what God is trying to tell me. The kitchen was still unfinished, the whole back half of the house hadn’t been touched, the cats were still deciding whether I deserved forgiveness, and plenty had not gone according to plan. Still, the house felt a little like home, and I finally had enough quiet to remember where my strength truly comes from.
“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” – Isaiah 40:31