This weekend I finally got started on a project that began just after Christmas. I was putting away Christmas ornaments when I saw a piece of Formica in the attic that did not belong where it was. This chain of events led to me forgetting where I was standing and I suddenly found my self stepping off the attic floor into a space between rafters that was covered by insulation. I heard a popping sound as I quickly, but not quick enough, pulled my foot back up on the floor. I hurried downstairs to sounds of “what happened?” and explanations of, “I’m okay, but I need to see what the damage is.” I found the spot in the utility room, fortunately, where my foot pushed almost through the ceiling.
A few weeks later the power went out all over town and I needed to run the heater off of a generator. I considered how to get an extension cord up the stairs through the house; my heater is in the attic. Then suddenly as if by inspiration it hit me. I already had a hole in the ceiling close enough to an outside door to run a cord almost directly to the heater. Now my accident seemed almost providential, to me at least.
Time went on. Joyce wanted it fixed before Jamie’s wedding but things got too busy. Then summer came and it got too hot to work in the attic. I thought it was beyond my abilities to do by myself, even though I sheet rocked my shop by myself. Besides, it was in the utility room where no one ever sees it. Okay, Joyce saw it every time she went into the utility room. And, I could see it from my office. But it was easy to ignore.
Then, last week, I overheard Joyce talking about it on the phone with a daughter. The words that caught my attention were, “Things like that are just not as important to men as they are to us.” Hmmm. I suddenly realized that my hole was more than a simple misstep by me. It was a flaw in the home of the one I treasured most in this world. Furthermore, it was a flaw I caused and should have fixed a long time ago.
Saturday, after she left for the morning, and without telling her what I was doing, I fixed the hole. It took me less time than I thought. I still have some finish work to do but the hole is fixed. When she came home I showed her what I had done, she smiled and gave me a big hug and a “thank you.” Then she took me out to buy me a birthday present at Sportsman’s Warehouse.
The Bible says, “Husbands, love your wives.” (Eph. 5:25) When was the last time you expressed it in a way she appreciates? Maintaining a relationship is more important than maintaining a house. But it can also be just as simple.
Bro. Robin
PS. I submitted this to Joyce for her review, since it is also about her. This was her response: “I like the article, but MAN, you are SLOW!!!! love ya.”
