I’m not building a house, but I live with someone who is. He and my brother have partnered to take on such a project. I’m not talking about finding a contractor and deciding on the finishes you want. I’m talking about the kind of house building that requires feet on the ground, hammer in hand, late nights and busy weekends.
It’s been a learning curve, a slow process at best. Being on the sidelines, I’ve been able to learn a few things myself. When you’re building a house, EVERYTHING rests on the foundation. Its purpose is obvious, but the process, not so much. Sometimes after a long day, I’ll ask if they made any progress. His face tells the story long before his mouth speaks, “not much.” Timelines and expected outcomes have gone out the window.
This foundation will also serve as a storm shelter, so there has been a lot of dirt to move. Followed by measuring and calculating, and then more dirt moved. On repeat.
Weather has provided its own unique set of challenges. Much of this building project has seen an extraordinary amount of rain. Lots of rain mixed with lots of dirt adds up to lots of mud. Mud that acts like quicksand, swallowing the boots before you can step out of them. The kind of mud that turns into hard clay as it dries. The kind of mud that settles into those tiny grooves in the sole of his boots. I can track his path without any effort.
There have been more frustrating days than I can count. Maybe even a clenched fist or two. For everything that has gone right, a dozen more have gone wrong.
That foundation work was necessary to hold the concrete walls that came next. But before those concrete walls could be poured, forms and bracing had to be in place. Endless trips up and down the ladder. Exhausting work.
To a passerby, progress is very subtle. After nearly two years, the subfloor is just peeking out of the ground.
What I can see doesn’t even look like the original blueprint anymore. There’s been more updates and redos than expected and often at great expense.
Isn’t that the reality of groundwork, though? It can take much longer than planned, and progress is barely negligible at times.
One of these days soon, he’ll transition from dirt work to wood work as the walls go up and the roof goes on. Interior walls and finish work will complete this project. All the groundwork and days of sinking in mud will be worth it. That foundation is solid. It’ll hold up well to the weight that will soon sit upon it. I suspect once he moves in, he’ll never move out.
I can’t help but think about the similarity to this life that we’ve been gifted. Isn’t it all groundwork?
The kind of groundwork that requires feet on the ground and hands in the dirt.
Isn’t it a learning curve? A slow process at best as we come to understand that it’s all about the foundation we’re building. When analyzed daily, it looks like not much was accomplished.
More days than not, it’s messy. If we didn’t make the mess ourselves, our neighbors’ messes spill into ours. Don’t we spend a lot of time moving dirt around? Measuring and calculating, adjusting, just to see timelines and expected outcomes go out the window.
We’re trying to climb ladders with loaded down tool belts. Exhausting work. Before we realize it, we are wading in mud. Mud that acts like quicksand, covering our path before we can step out of it. The kind of mud that turns our hearts into concrete. The kind of mud that gets in the grooves of our soul and leaves its mark, following behind us, telling the story of where we’ve been.
For everything that goes well, a dozen more go wrong. There are days when life doesn’t even look like the blueprint anymore.
I don’t know about you, but my life has had more updates and redos than I had planned. Often those changes have come at great expense. If not to myself, someone I love has paid the price. At times, if you’re on the outside looking in, you’d have to strain to see any progress.
But even as messy as it may look, I know the groundwork is necessary. It’s not just a foundation, it’s a storm shelter too. Those days of relentless rain? It actually made the foundation stronger, like cement.
The challenges and struggles remind me that this life is hard, such is the nature of it. But this all-consuming, never-ending, frustrating, messy groundwork; it’s only worth it if there’s something that can be built on top of it. Otherwise, we’re just moving dirt.
The foundation I’ve landed on doesn’t move like shifting shadows. It’s rock solid, but I’m learning it requires surrender. Even when I’m standing in an absolute downpour, I’m trying to release my muddy clenched fists. I’m trying to look upward, with open hands, so that I can do the work until He calls me home.
An everlasting home whose builder and maker is God. Once I move in, I’m never moving out.
