it's a new day, Hallelujah!
the sun is spilling into the kitchen where i sit writing. i have just picked no less then three vases worth of flowers from the garden. the dehydrator still needs cleaning from drying tomatoes yesterday. we just planted a dogwood in the front yard. my kids are off playing with neighbours (my son is literally catching crayfish right now in the stream that runs through our property) - i hear their laughter or screeches every once and a while wafting in through the open windows. or the open door. the door that has been largely open all summer. "come in, come in, come in!" i want our home to say. and it has. neighbours and friends, but mostly this summer, carpenters and painters and dry-wallers, plumbers and electricians.
because on june 12th our house flooded.
picture this: i arrive home from zipping out with my friend marsha, who's visiting from Saskatoon with her three girls under the age of 5. we've just been father's day gift shopping. i show her older girls the lavender in my front yard as marsha unbuckles the baby from the carseat. i show them how to hug the buds with your hands and then smell your fingers afterwards - heaven. we walk up to the front door and i notice water dripping off of one side of the house. "why is it only raining on that side of the house?" i wonder out loud. i look at marsha and it hits us. the water is coming out of the house from INSIDE the house.
it takes me forever (10 seconds?) to get the front door open. i rush up to my bedroom's ensuite and find that the water line which connects the toilet to the wall has snapped off and there is water spraying, like a power hose, out the ensuite door, into my bedroom, where it hits the light over my bed and shoots out all around the room.
that was june 12th. three days ago we got our bathroom back. two days ago we got our new mattress. yesterday bedroom furniture. today i feel like i'm walking out of the crazy. which is why i'm saying, it's a new day, Hallelujah!
this summer has taught me some things about myself that i don't really like. first, it seems my happiness and sense of sanity are directly correlated to the state of my home. this isn't a total surprise, but i still don't like it.
second, i like to be in control. it gives me a sense of, well, control. and i like that. i like to be in control when building ikea furniture with my husband. i like to be in control when picking tile and replacement flooring. i like to be in control in the kitchen, even when my husband is cooking (!).
if there's two things that a house flood will do for you, it will rip out your sense of control by the knees and make your home a total and utter disaster for months on end. thank you, house floods everywhere, for helping us humans come to grips with our own depravity and need for Christ. now that i've obviously learned these lessons, you may leave and never return.
back in june i do remember praying that God would use our home in the lives of all of the workers that would be coming through it, and i really feel that He has answered that prayer. we've had hugs and thank you's and "it was a gift to work in your home". we've tried to treat everyone with kindness and respect, we've introduced ourselves and offered coffee and chatted about dentures and churches and bus routes. in truth, we have only offered a minimum amount of decorum, so it must be God's spirit at work. but i also have to think, how are these hard working trades men treated in other homes that they seem so shocked when i want to shake their hand hello?
i do have a classic janet embarrassing moment to share with you. i know, now you're all excited. i see you Marilynne!
the flood had ruined out bedroom and ensuite, but also the rooms below it - my studio (yes, but no paintings were ruined which is absolutely a miracle and makes me a little teary and possibly puts thoughts in my mind of God blessing me as an artist...anyways) and the bathroom and hallway in our rental suite. so, scott and i had to sleep on a mattress on the floor in our family room for the summer. the only working bathroom was upstairs, so we had to grab our clothing in the morning and carry it to the shower. no biggie. so, one morning i've just grabbed said clothing and i'm heading upstairs, past the front door and in walks a carpenter that i haven't met before. so, i introduce myself, shake his hand, walk him upstairs and ask what he's hoping to accomplish. suddenly, in the midst of this conversation, i realize i am holding my bra in my hand, inches from his face (this is not the embarrassing moment, it gets worse). so, i turn around and put my clothes on the couch and hide my bra in my shirt. you know the drill.
i turn back to talk to him, but now i'm flustered and feeling awkward and YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS WHEN I FEEL THIS WAY. i say "hey! i like your beard" (as these words are coming out of my mouth i'm reflecting on the fact that i do NOT like his beard. it is one of those stringy long whispy things. my hairdresser calls the style "lumbersexual").
he answers "thanks. most women don't like it"
and what do i do? i'll tell you. i say "oh NO! it's great! you're a carpenter and it says "carpenter". it's doing it for me!"
it's doing it for me.
i said that.
to his face.
at this moment i turn my body around, grab my clothing from the couch and walk to the bathroom. when scott walks in a moment later i am standing staring in the mirror at myself. i say to him
i just told the carpenter that his beard was "doing it for me".
awesome! he's going to work hard for us today! i'm going to go hit on him too.
and he leaves the bathroom.
and i love my husband. he is truly the most amazing man i have ever known. he could not have said a better thing to me in that moment.
(and now you can all pray for me because this carpenter is scheduled to be here tomorrow and you KNOW WHAT HAPPENS when i feel flustered and nervous. Lord have mercy.)
ok, off to go unpack some boxes and ogle some crayfish and make waffles for supper! thank you God for a husband who trusts me and neighbourhood friends and dinner plate dahlias and walls in my bedroom.