Extreme Makeover: Interior Edition A Floorplan for Healing. A Blueprint for Becoming.

August 4, 2025

Remember when makeover shows were all the rage?

We were captivated—because who doesn’t love watching someone transform right before our eyes? In just a few episodes, we’d see people go from stuck and discouraged to radiant and free. A new haircut, fresh clothes, weight loss, maybe even a bit of cosmetic work… and suddenly, a whole new life seemed possible.

Many of us watched and thought: “That’s what I need. Maybe then I’d finally feel good about myself.”

But was it really transformation—or just a change in appearance?

From Floorplans to Formation

Before I became a mentor, I was an interior designer. I loved helping clients reimagine their homes—making them more beautiful, functional, and reflective of the people who lived in them. Some projects were cosmetic: new furniture, fresh paint, better lighting. Others were more involved: tearing down walls, changing floorplans, gutting kitchens, reworking layouts, and landscaping.

It was exciting. But it was always messy before it was beautiful.

Eventually, I began to sense a shift. My own spiritual life deepened, and I started asking: What if your real work isn’t about outer spaces—but inner ones?

That question launched my own journey of healing—and eventually led me to the work I now do as a mentor. And what I’ve discovered is this: whether you’re transforming a house, a heart, or a marriage—the process is more similar than we often realize.

Makeovers Are Tempting. But Are They Enough?

In our culture, we often settle for surface-level change. We’re told if we look better, feel thinner, or appear more “put together,” our lives will fall into place. But the Scriptures cut through this illusion.

In this past Sunday’s first reading (Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year C), Ecclesiastes speaks powerfully about the impermanence of it all:

“Vanity of vanities… all is vanity!” (Ecclesiastes 1:2)

The Mass reminds us that our lives are like grass: flourishing in the morning, fading by evening. All we labor for can slip away.

In other words, if all we’re doing is chasing appearances—whether in our homes, our bodies, or even in our marriages—we’ll always come up empty.

Even in my design work, I saw it firsthand: no amount of lighting or new furniture could fix the tension beneath the surface. A marble countertop couldn’t heal a broken heart. Some things need to be rebuilt from within.

Real Transformation Is Deeper

Think about a true spiritual conversion:

• Turning away from sin and toward a life of virtue

• Returning to the sacraments, especially Reconciliation and the Eucharist

• Developing a desire to live for eternal things, not just material ones

• Reordering your entire life toward love, service, and truth

This isn’t cosmetic—it’s foundational.

From the second reading this past Sunday:

“Put to death what is earthly in you… and put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge, in the image of its creator.” (Colossians 3:5,10 – Second Reading, Colossians 3:1–11)

The same is true in marriage. When a couple seeks renewal, they don’t need new vows—they need a new interior foundation. They relearn how to love, communicate, forgive, and serve. The covenant remains. But the heart of the relationship is rebuilt.

Every True Renovation Has These in Common

Whether it’s your house, your soul, or your relationship—transformation always involves:

• Vision – a glimpse of what could be

• Mess – demo day always comes before design day

• Time – change is never instant

• Curiosity & creativity – openness to new ways of thinking and being

• Courage – facing hard truths with honesty and hope

Yes, it stretches us. Yes, it can be painful. But in the end, it leads to:

• Interior peace and clarity

• Freedom from old burdens

• Greater connection with yourself, your spouse, and God

• A stronger sense of identity, mission, and self‑leadership

Big Barns, Hollow Interiors

The Call to Be Rich Toward God

This Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 12:13–21) offered one more profound reminder of what really matters. Jesus tells the story of a man who stored up wealth and planned for a future of comfort—but neglected the only thing that truly lasts:

“You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you… to whom will what you have prepared belong?” (Luke 12:20)

It’s not just a parable about money. It’s a story about building a life around external success—filling barns—while ignoring the interior space where our soul lives and grows.

We can spend years designing a beautiful life from the outside. But if our interior world is hollow—unformed, unloved, or unexamined—then what are we really building?

Because the interior work that lasts… is the work of becoming a saint.

You can build bigger barns, curate the perfect lifestyle… but if your soul isn’t expanding in love, truth, and grace—what will remain?

My Story, Still Unfolding

I’ve been married for 34 years, raised three children, and am now a grandmother. I’ve lived through many transitions—some welcomed, others difficult—and I’ve learned: everything in this world is passing away.

The Mass readings this Sunday reminded us that we often toil and labor for things that do not last. Our possessions, appearances, even our carefully designed lives—all of it fades. But the soul—the person we are becoming in Christ—is eternal.

So if you feel stuck, discouraged, or like something’s “off,” maybe what you’re really longing for isn’t another outer change. Maybe it’s time for your own interior renovation.

Not because you’re broken. But because you’re worthy of the space, freedom, and love you were made for.