Wednesday, December 8, 2010
The Best Nest
We gasp in surprise when the raccoon pops out of the tree; we plug our noses when they investigate the smelly, old shoe; we wince when they pull out the man's hair; we "BOING, BOING, BOING" with the church bell; and together we say "I love my house. I love my nest. In all the world, my nest is best!"
I was a little like Mrs. Bird this morning. I wasn't too happy with my nest. Waking up to record cold temperatures, in a place that uses insulation sparingly, is not fun. One of the only motivations for dragging my self out of a nice, warm bed was the prospect of a nice, hot shower. I turned on the water, tested the temperature, pulled the lever to turn the shower on .... and was greeted with the clanging of empty pipes.
This is not the first time I have lost water because of cold weather (although never this early in the year), but the experience never gets better. Before I could stop them, the thoughts were filling my mind ... "If I lived in town, this wouldn't happen." "If I lived some place better, this wouldn't happen." "If I had better landlords, this wouldn't happen." As I stumbled through my morning preparations, that phrase started echoing in my still groggy brain. "I love my house. I love my nest. In all the world, my nest is best."
My thoughts paused long enough to register the truth that I have a house and I should be grateful. Three hundred and sixty-four (give or take) mornings a year, I have running water and I should be grateful. I have this amazing device in my utility room that heats the water as it passes through so I can take warm showers, wash my clothes, and sanitize my dishes and I should be grateful.
That was this morning, but this afternoon I began to recall all of the other reasons why my nest is best.
There aren't many people who know all that was involved in my move to South Carolina (and there are more dimensions to the story than I have time to tell in this post), but it was a whirlwind of a trip. When I arrived I had no place to live. It had been arranged for me to stay with someone at the school until I could find a house, but that fell through the first night. It was the next evening, after a hotel stay and my first day of work, before I could go looking.
A local realtor took me to the only place they had openings, an apartment complex on the other side of town. We pulled into the lot and my already low spirits sank a little further. Trash and other debris littered yard. Everything looked dirty and in a state of disrepair. I think the realtor noticed my lack of enthusiasm and tried to reassure me with the knowledge that the police kept an eye on the area...it didn't work. Touring the inside didn't help with its stained carpet, dingy walls, and cramped kitchen.
He took me back to his truck to wait while he looked at something that needed his attention. I sat there, trying not to cry (for the millionth time that day), praying "God, if I have to live here, I will, but PLEASE have something else!"
I managed not to break down when asked what I thought of the apartment, but my voice was a little shaky when I asked if he was sure there was nothing else. He mentioned some unfinished duplexes and asked if I wanted to see them. Not knowing what else to do, I said yes.
This time when he pulled into the driveway I wanted to cry again...because this time there was pretty little porch, bright windows, and clean white walls. And I knew...this was my nest.
It wasn't as easy as that, I had three life-changing weeks (another story, for another post) to wait on them to finish the construction, but I knew I had found the place especially prepared for me by loving Father. This is why I can say...
I love house.
I love my nest.
In all the world, my nest is best.
...Thank You, Lord, for how You've blessed!