Flashback Friday

There's been a chill in the air the last few mornings.

Yes, California has finally decided to have fall! I'm choosing to ignore the fact that it got up to 81 degrees yesterday because I am in full denial about the fact that California does not get to have seasons like other places. The heater came on. That's all we need to know. It's fall.

And that's final.

But, I digress.

As I pulled socks onto my freezing feet this morning, I looked longingly at the fluffy, cozy warmness of my bed that, in the morning, looks twelve times more comfortable than it does at any other time. Oh how warm and toasty I would be if I could just climb back into my wonderful bed,

just


for


five


more


minutes.


But I resisted. And then I got to thinking about a time gone by, two years ago, when our feet were really freezing. And our warm, toasty, wonderful bed didn't offer much warmness or toasty-ness.

It was a time just after we did this to our house:




We had been working on an add on for several months, and on this day, they demolished what had been the back of our house and opened it up to the new part.

It was January.

And, even in southern California, it gets cold at night in January.

Without the normal things a house has, like flooring and stucco drywall and oh, I don't know, insulation...the added on part of the house was FREEZING. And it was now opened up to the whole rest of the house to share it's freezing-ness with each and every room.

I should also probably mention that, because we were moving our electrical panel, we had only temporary power for our house. That's not enough to run the heater.

It was a chilly time for us.

I could also tell you the story of how our little room heater over-burdened our electricity one night and fried some wires, which were smoldering and smoking when they tripped the breaker. Which miraculously awakened my sleeping husband who took necessary steps to make sure the whole project (and by project, I mean house) didn't go up in flames.

Or about the night when I was startled awake by the clickety-clackety-kaplunk of a little piece of stucco tumbling down the exposed framework of our bedroom wall, having just been dislodged by the rat who had poked his ugly little head in through one of the many tiny openings that prevented us from keeping the outside OUT. And how my knight-in-shining-boxer-shorts hammered a two by four over that hole in the middle of the night to protect me from any more furry intruders.

But those are stories for another time.

Without the extra stories, the remodel went something like this:

In the beginning there was a small house. It needed more. So a patio was torn off, and a foundation was laid.

Then some walls were added.

And some were taken away.
Then it was finished. Finally.

Suffice it to say, this flashback has reminded me that, even when we are in way over our heads doing the work God has called us to, and we are feeling overwhelmed and exhausted and frustrated, He walks with us all the way. And protects us from harm. And teaches us a lot. And gives us moments of comic relief.

And eventually, the job gets done. And life goes on.


Maybe that add-on was preparation for something.