It started with Extreme Home Makeover.
Remodeling homes are not new. But doing it for people who couldn’t afford to do it themselves was less common.
And nobody had televised the process before.
Within a few months, it became one of the most popular shows on television. The producers found the perfect formula for attracting viewers of all ages:
Discover a family who had experienced tragedy or hardship, who live in a house with severe problems – and it interferes with their quality of life.
Put a likable cast of characters together: A likable, extroverted leader (Ty Pennington); an attractive female contractor who wears pink gloves and hard hat (Paige Hemmis); a quirky, pseudo-grumpy contractor (Paul DiMeo); and a rotating cast of warm, friendly designers and occasional celebrities.
Find a formulaic structure crafted to tug at viewer’s emotions (surprise the family, listen to their story, send them on a dream vacation while rebuilding their home, run into last-minute problems that threaten an on-time completion, bring the family home to a big reveal with hundreds of people in the street, then focus on their overwhelmed reactions as they tour their new house).
Script a few goofy vignettes to add a slapstick feel – scenarios that appear serious, but are just crazy enough that you know they’re not real (but you don’t care).
Some people hated it. Some people loved it.
Either way, it started a trend of home remodeling shows that continues to this day. The plots are based on two elements:
- Start with an old house that’s completely run-down, then emphasize the horrible condition it’s in.
- Redo the house so it looks like a model home, and people will pay big bucks for it.
One night, a few weeks ago, my wife and I were watching one of these shows. The hosts were discussing how run-down the house was, and how the layout defied logic. Built in 1958, the floors had rotted through; mold was found behind cabinets, and the plumbing and electrical were almost non-existent.
I thought, “Wow! That house is a horrible house. How could anyone ever live there?”
But that’s when I had a revelation:
Sixty years ago, that house was brand new – and someone bought it because they thought it was perfect.
They built memories in that house.
They decorated it.
They brought in furniture.
They made repairs, mowed the lawns, and might have actually “modernized” it at some point.
It was their dream home.
If HGTV existed in 1958, they couldn’t have used that house as the “fixer-upper.” It was already “fixed up.” They would have shown it as a model of what a dream home looked like (even though it would have been in black-and-white).
In fact, move ahead to 2078. Sixty years from now, the same house we just saw remodeled to perfection will be “the nightmare house on Elm Street.”
It’s a simple principle of life, based on the 2nd law of thermodynamics:
Things run down over time. They don’t naturally get better; they get worse.
It happens to relationships, too.
On our wedding day, Diane and I felt like our relationship was close to perfect. Sure, other people struggled over time – but we were different. Nobody understood how our relationship would withstand the test of time except us. We were in L-O-V-E.
It was really good for the first few years, and we assumed it would stay that way. We didn’t work on the relationship much, because we didn’t think we needed to.
But over time, we noticed the emotional paint peeling and the attitudes rotting and the mold in the dark, unspoken places. We couldn’t ignore it anymore and finally began to talk about it. We knew that if we didn’t do something, the whole thing might come tumbling down.
That’s when the maintenance and remodeling started. We valued the relationship enough that we decided to do an Extreme Makeover.
We weren’t sure what to do, but someone recommended a book on marriage. We bought it, read one chapter a week, then we went out to lunch to talk about our perspective. For the first time, we looked at the messy things together and made a plan for moving forward.
It wasn’t overnight, but it put us on the right path. It wasn’t even the content of the book that helped the most; it just gave us an incentive to talk and to listen to each other. That listening built trust, and trust became the foundation for the future.
After 41 years, we realize that our relationship is far from perfect. But we’re deeply committed to maintenance. We still read together; we go to seminars together; we’ve gone to counseling together; we take long weekends away to stay connected; we hang out with other people who are equally committed to their relationships.
The more your house is worth, the more important maintenance is.
The more valuable a relationship is, the more important maintenance is.
Some relationships need a complete makeover while others might just need a fresh coat of paint.
Think about your most important relationship. If HGTV used that relationship on a remodeling show, which example would it be?
Would it be the “fixer-upper?” (Before remodeling)
Or would it be the dream relationship? (After remodeling)
For most of us, it would be somewhere in-between. But it doesn’t really matter.
Here’s the point: Every relationship needs regular maintenance. Without it, the relationship will begin to run down over time.
It can be painful to take an honest look at your relationship because you’re afraid of what you might find. But that’s like finding a lump and not going to the doctor. Ignoring it can be fatal, and you’re worth more than that.
You deserve an accurate diagnosis for your relationship. You’ve invested a lot in it, and it’s worth the best treatment available. It’s common to give up hope because you can’t see a way out.
But that’s because you’re doing self-diagnosis.
You need to ask for help.
If you find that you need an extreme makeover, you want a team of seasoned experts to invest in your success:
- A licensed therapist who specializes in challenging relationships
- An accountability group that believes in your relationship, and will walk the journey with you
- Boundaries against family and friends who predict failure
- A fitness partner to build physical stamina for the journey – which leads to mental stamina
- Create margin in your life to give you time to process
- The spiritual refreshment that comes from genuine faith
Will the relationship improve? Not necessarily. But like going through chemo for cancer, you’re giving it the best shot you can.
There are never guarantees. But there is always hope.
Don’t give up. Not you, not now.
What do you have to lose?