Yesterday I got up raced around to get ready for church, got all the laundry in the car as its easier than picking everything up off the floor after the spin cycle of my wash machine. I took the cloths and dumped them all into one giant super loader at the laundry mat to wash while I was at service. Raced back, put all the cloths in two super load driers set the temperature on high for 20 minutes and ran to the grocery store. Loaded all the groceries in the car then back to the laundry mat, hauled all the laundry out of the driers and threw them in the basket, unfolded, then dragged everything home all in 2.5 hours. The big plan was to go home and start working on Noah’s loft. I had the materials, I had the tools and the rest of the day to do it. After folding my cloths and putting them away I went out and sat on the porch and tried to think of a way to either get the ply wood out of the loft so I could cut it to size or how to get the skill saw into the loft so I cut it up there. I mean people do this stuff every day how hard could it be right ? So finally I decided to pull the plywood out of the loft. I pushed the chest up to the cupboard and stood on top of it so I could reach the plywood. I reached up to pull it down and realized instantly it was to heavy for me, it was sliding and Noah was right in the way. I dug deep and found my mommy super powers and heaved the plywood back into the loft, A bit shaken I sat on the cupboard buried my face in my hands and cried, had I taken on too much ? What was I thinking ? I climbed down and went back onto the porch and sat to think about this situation a bit more. I decided to try to stop thinking about what I couldn’t do and start thinking about what I could do. So I got all he tools out of the back seat of my car, I could do that. I’m going to keep going, really I have no choice.

I worked at several shelters over the course of my life, I have always had a heart for the homeless but being a resident at a shelter impacted my life in a way I cannot explain. It changed me from being just a person whom I believe had a good heart to a woman who is driven, a woman on a mission, a woman who’s dream is to start a tiny house community. When I was finally able to get back to work I was hired as a coordinator by a community action agency, in that position I am on the frontlines and witness to the impact of those living in extreme poverty everyday.  Day in and day out I see people living homes with little more than dirt floors in Maine in the winter time that could be deadly. A tiny house would be a game changer for so many people. It’s hard to be called to a mission you can’t just do yourself, that means you have to depend on others, even recruit others to see it through. Here I was too proud to even reach out for help to get some plywood down. The good Lord has some work to do on this lady right here !

Last night Jay stopped by, he came up and sat on the porch with me and said” when you gonna pick up the vent for the bathroom so we can get Noah’s loft done ? “. I looked up and smiled, all in his time….<3

 

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2 Replies to “Tiny House Theology”

  1. Oh, that is wonderful! I am so glad help presented itself to you on your porch. What a blessing! I used to be a social worker for the mentally ill – it was very eye opening to the level of poverty most were living in. What a busy Sunday you had – still so happy the way it ended for you!

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