Waters Rising

Waters Rising

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

I entered our home one day to the tune of a hollow whirring noise beckoning from the basement. My first inkling was to check out the odd sounding echo coming from the chamber of the vent nearby. As I am an organizer, my first order of duty was to finish unpacking that which I’d hauled in from my vehicle. Thus, I delayed checking it out.

One thing led to another, and as I opened the refrigerator door, I noted the water pitcher needed refilling. Over to the sink, I went flipping on the faucet. When nothing erupted from it, I instinctively remembered the odd noises!

Within seconds, I was not only standing at the top of the basement steps looking down upon cement walls filled with murky water but quickly noted that electrical cords were dangling within it.

One phone call was all it took for the voice on the other end to direct me to the fuse box on the back porch. With the flip of a switch, the pump shut off, halting the flow of water coming in.

That was the beginning of the trials bursting forth…so to speak. Not having water within the house was one thing, but as the farm animals were also dependant on that pump…well that set into motion a whole new set of circumstances.

As temps dipped precariously low outside, we noted that within the temps were dipping rather quickly as well. Apparently, electric furnaces sitting upon basement floors do not like waters rising through them.

“Just open the oven door, that’ll keep us warm until we can get it replaced,” remarked the brain with the brawn flying from one end of the house to the other managing tasks I knew not how to. I did as he requested and hovered close by keeping warm just as he suggested.

Later, when things had simmered down, we managed a conversation about the situation.

“Actually, it’s a miracle,” he reminded. “Remember that furnace went out a couple of weeks ago and the part needed was still under warranty? Well, rather than replace the whole thing, we only invested a couple hundred that round. Had we put a whole new furnace in at that time, we would be looking to replace it again…a mere couple weeks later!”

“And, look at this,” he stated as he plopped the burst joint of a pipe the plumber had replaced. “Here’s the culprit of the whole problem. The plumber said he’d never seen anything like it!”

As I picked up the metal piece, before me was one elbow where the water had to pass in order to connect to the other main lines it was to travel. One side of it looked solid enough, but when I flipped it over, the metal had been wearing away within and, it burst. A quarter-sized hole stared back at me.

What was meant to move liquid on through had actually worn right through. And, because it hadn’t been tended to, all the pressure from within came out and into the basement, wreaking havoc as it did.

Miracles are messy. Knowing it could have been worse made it so much better. Calling it what it was, a miracle, helped us to see it more clearly and to recognize the protection all around. Even in the midst of the disaster, it put the focus back where it should be…on Him.

After all, it does not say to give thanks for all circumstances, but rather to “be thankful in all circumstances” (1 Thes. 5:18).  Amen.