For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything. Hebrews 3:4
The shed fell and my heart fell too.
One long season of building a structure.
…building a marriage too.
The house, a stake in the ground, a foundation of love.
This is where we stay. We’re not moving anymore. We’re not going away from here. Or away from us. We’re not leaving.
The shed, that first monument. Our sign on the door. The first wall up. An I’ll build this greenhouse side for you and I’ll build this shed side for me and together we’ll build it and it’s ours and it’s us.
That’s what the shed was.
One side for him, for man things, the tools, the work side.
The ‘I’ll take care of things and we’ll keep our stuff in here and sometimes it will be messy and cluttered and sometimes things will hang from the roof and sometimes I won’t know exactly where those things are because I am just a man after all but it will all be here for the finding and when we need it’ side.
It’ll be there, right here at our fingertips. The things you need will be right here. Right here because I’m.not.going.anywhere.
And one side for me. A smaller side, a softer side, a side drawn right out of his own mind, his own love idea and right onto that paper in black and white, a part of the plan and it belongs right there, has to be right there, attached and joined to his half. Clear walls and full of light and fun and this is where we’ll grow things.
The side just for me that he draws in and in drawing it he says it. ‘You’ll be able to create, I know you love to. You are sometimes messy and a lot of the times start things you don’t want to or know how to finish but you need a spot to grow beauty and I want you to be able to in this place. For you. For me. For us. This is a place I know you’d want to be and while we need my side, a practical side, I know you need a creative side too and I want that for you.’
My side says this shed is different and this shed is love and this shed gives hope.
Hope drawn into the plan, hope right next to your side and being side by side makes us one and joined and attached and I’m.not.going.anywhere.
Strong hands drew up that plan, a custom, one-of-a-kind, fearfully and wonderfully made plan…no one else has a shed like it kind of plan.
And strong hands chose lumber and strong hands hauled and hammered and cut.
And then strong hands rebuilt a marriage.
Built a shelter, and though just a shed, it was somehow still a place out of the storm for her, for him, from the rain that’d been falling and falling…
…and soaking them in their own darkness over a year.
He hammered and cut, and sometimes they hammered and hauled together and when it was done…oh..when it was done…
…it was theirs.
Proudly it stood, side by side, for that first winter, and the next winter after and for years and years, reminding them of what they built.
What he built when they’d both said we’re not going anywhere.
And the shed they built became the shed they really needed and with each baby came more need …
…and the boats and the tools …the shed became a shed.
A full shed, a cute shed…a shed full of memories…a shed full of things.
The monument, the stake in the ground, now a statue covered in moss. Showing years and altogether beautiful…
…patina showing its age.
Its age and use and love.
And when the foundation moved…the foundation of the marriage, well, when that happened, the foundation of the shed shifted too.
The sinkhole they didn’t know was there shifted the shed downward.
But the foundation on the Rock that they were learning IS there, it shifted the marriage upward.
Toward strength. Toward oneness. Toward forever. Toward light after the dark and rainbows after the storm and no more need for fixing or for shed building.
Toward the One with even stronger hands. Hands that took the nails and made all things whole again.
So after the earthquake hit,- the biggest one they’d known- and the shed was rattled, left ragged and tippy, looking at them tiredly for weeks as the last aftershocks rolled through…
…looking at them like this might just be the last sink this old shed can take…there wasn’t much surprise when the oldest boy came to say, very matter of factly…
“Mama? Our shed is no more.“
The roof, flat and near level with the ground, held that wet heavy snow while it all pushed and pushed down on the frame of that shed, built with so much love…so much hope back then…
…until the boards just couldn’t take the weight…
…and it all caved in.
And the practical side, the man side, with all the tools and the tires, lay right next to the light side, the pretty side, the place he built for her to grow things.
Yes, the shed fell flat.
But the foundation?
The foundation is now firm.
And for that…
…the shed has faithfully served its purpose.
For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2 Corinthians 5:1
© This Crazy Little Farm