Endless Allelujah

Joshua 1:9 “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.”

“Riiiip, scruuug, scruuug, ziiiip,” the sounds went on for hours until the sun met the horizon and settled in for a night of slumber. Darkness filled the room until the switch on the wall was flipped, out of habit, and the day continued as if the sun’s watch was obsolete.

A full and overflowing day in another chapter of the manuscript called, “Mom’s New Journery” was coming to a conclusion.

Taylor and my day started early with a flat tire. “Errrrk!” That quickly put the brakes on the long list of “Saturday’s To Do’s.” After running out for parts, only to discover the tire wouldn’t accept air, the towel was thrown into the ring of “Taylor verses the Pacifica.” Taylor’s secret weapon, Triple A, would be called in for the next round. She would  be the new champ in the head to head, but for the moment, Gracie Girl, as her Pacifica is lovingly named, will have to wait her turn. On to the “Journey,” Hooo-Ohhhhhh!

After a quick stop, using a cherished gift card (bless you Kevin and Lisa), the aroma of fresh hot Coffee filled the tiny compartment of ‘lil Truck for the last leg of our trip to work on “MNJ.” Upon arrival, the coffee, like the Pacifica, had to wait it’s turn as pieces of a journey that had ended (not mine) were loaded into the back of the “Lil’ Red Truck That Could,” and taken for donation and recycling. Though packed to the brim, the unloading was easy, with help. Back to MNJ!

When we arrived Grace (her named describes her perfectly-a gift you don’t deserve) was there, braving the chill while awaiting to become hot and steamy…with a wall paper steamer. What were you thinking?

For the next couple of hours the “Sizzle” and “whoosh” of the steamer was singing and the border from the mid nineties was disappearing scrape by scrape.

As Grace and Taylor circled the room, “Bang! Bang!”could be heard echoing from the basement. Plumber Roger, today without his lovely wife Linda, was tirelessly working to complete his foundational piece of this puzzle.

”Bang! Sizzle, woosh, Bang! Sizzle, whoosh,” The beautiful chorus was taking place without drawing attention. Time to add another element to the trio:“Riiiip, scruuug, scruuug, ziiiip,” I cut badly stained, musty carpet into strips, taping them into tight rolls while listening to the sweet chatter between Grace and Taylor, steaming and scrapping away.

Finally, after hours of hard work these amazing ladies could see the fruit of their labor: walls, dimished in size by a thick dark swag, appeared to have grown in height, were now ready to sand, clean and paint.

While I continued cutting carpet, they loaded Grace’s vehicle with not only the steamer, but rolls of dusty carpet. She was off, almost like a super hero who had “saved the day,” brushing away the many thanks as if it were just part of her everyday work. Her mama definitely should have called her Amazing Grace for her work ethic and humble spirit.

Taylor and I continued for hours cutting, rolling, and carrying carpet, until darkness’ visit begged us to journey home. Sunday Eve was about to welcome in the new day.

As we carried the last of the rolled carpet into the garage, emasing a nice mound, I looked at the shadowed pile. All of this carpet and even the border, were once sought after and carefully chosen with love and hope for a future to be filled with joy, laughter and memories. Not only was the preparation mental but physical as with the underlayment and padding for the carpet and A LOT of extra adhesive for the border. Theses pieces were a carfully orchestrated part of someone’s journey, part of their dream, now ready for refuse removal.

All that time and energy to end up in the landfill. I stood in the silent darkness taking in this realization.

I reflected on what is in my heart. Often, I can get caught up with stuff that I think refects me to the world, in the clothes I wear, my accessories to decorate my house, the pictures and so on. I want people to see “my stuff” and see…me. “By my stuff they shall know me.” Is that really what I think? I ponder. All of that stuff is going to end up in the landfill.

Without the “stuff” will they forget me?

I am on my new journey. I bought an extreme fixer upper, did I tell you? I told you about the angels I prayed for and soon I will go into greater detail about how they showed up, show up on a regular basis, and what they are teaching me, without saying a word, just like this amazing lesson on stuff.

The morning after the new journey cantata I was late for church. I got up and started praising Heavenly Dad, listening to the music I’ve attached and others reminding me that it doesn’t matter if people remember me or my stuff when I’m gone. My heart was heavy with the question: will my existance on this earth have lit the way for people who would have  sacrificed their eternal relationship with Heavenly Dad for the refuse pile in the dark? The time and energy the angels and I are putting into this house isn’t for my ease in life. It’s a tool, Lord willing, to allow me more time to serve others and not sacrifice the precious time I have on this earth to maintain more than what I need.

This is a scary journey but I can’t say a risky one because Heavenly Dad has masterminded so incredibly many pieces of this puzzle that He is being glorified every moment of every day in the story of the “House Built by God.” He is contantly reminding me that He,” will be with you (me) wherever you go (am).”

Time to get my praise on. Until next time: Blessings!

 

One thought on “Endless Allelujah

  1. My small church would like to help move you on the 24th. Sam and I would like to come over and see what else our small church can do. Would that be ok?

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