Renovated, Not Replaced Ephesians 4: 22–24

The other day, I stood in a room I know well. Nothing was new, yet everything felt different. I noticed the scuff on the wall I had stopped seeing. The chair that once felt comfortable now felt worn. A few things still belonged. Others had stayed simply because they always had. I realized I had been living around them without ever asking whether they still served the life I am in now.

That is what the start of a new year can feel like. Not a clean slate, but a clear look. Scripture speaks to moments like this. Moments when God slows us down just enough to notice what we have been carrying. When the familiar is no longer invisible. When the Spirit invites us to look honestly, not with judgment, but with truth.

That is where Paul’s words meet us. Paul is not talking about self-improvement. He is talking about renovation.

If you have ever watched a renovation show, you know how it goes. The homeowners think they need new paint or better furniture. Then the walls come down, old wiring is exposed, and hidden damage is revealed. What seems fine at first often requires more extensive work. Renovation usually goes farther than expected. No matter how much updating, restoring, or improving the existing structure with cosmetic or functional changes—such as paint, new fixtures, or appliances—without altering its fundamental layout, renovation aims to preserve the existing framework.

That is what Paul means when he says to put off the old self. The old self is not just bad habits or obvious mistakes. Sometimes it is survival mode. Sometimes it is how we learned to protect ourselves when life was hard. Sometimes it is the version of you that kept going when you had no other choice. That self helped you survive, but it is not meant to be your permanent address.

Putting off the old self does not mean pretending the past never happened. It means acknowledging that God has done new work since then. It means admitting that what once kept you safe may now be keeping you stuck.

The new self, Paul describes, is already being formed. Created to be like God. Shaped by truth. Rooted in holiness that looks more like wholeness than perfection. This new self grows when we tell the truth about what we are carrying, when we stop calling exhaustion normal, when we stop confusing familiarity with faithfulness.

Renovation is messy. Things get moved. Dust gets kicked up. You realize how much you were holding without noticing. But renovation also creates space. Light comes in. Breath returns. Movement becomes easier.

As this year begins, God may not be asking you to do more. God may be asking you to live lighter.
•What needs to be cleared out so your spirit can breathe again?
•What belief about yourself no longer matches who God says you are?
What are you still carrying that God has already released?

Whatever it is, know that you are not starting from scratch. You are starting from grace.

Pray with me: God of new beginnings, help me release what no longer fits the life you are shaping in me. Give me courage to let go, patience with the process, and trust in your steady work. Make room in me for what is new. Amen.

Written by Rev. Kay Dubuisson