Speaking of things that almost didn't happen, our youth retreat to Panama City Beach seemed destined for disaster. The scheduler, planner, and organizer for the trip was caught between a baby and hard place not to go. His wife was in the hospital expecting their first child and was being monitored, due to high blood pressure and gestational diabetes. And although a tad early, she made her grand entrance into this world the evening before our trip. So he obviously wasn't going, no problem the other chaperones could handle it. But it also meant the head cook, who hadn't gotten the food yet, wouldn't be going since she is the grandmother. Add to the mix, that hard thunderstorms were crashing toward the Florida panhandle, in the area of the retreat, and reports of a tornado touching down had more than a few parents concerned. But God is so good. A woman who is busy most weekends, who just "happens" to have a great talent for cooking in these type situations, who just "happened" to be talking to one of the chaperones when we found out about the new need for a new cook, said yes. And although there were spots of rain during our trip there and back, we had absolutely gorgeous weather for 2 days.
I was reminded of how many times in my life when things didn't look so good from the onset, where events were planned or dreams were made. And at just the time when things are coming together, rain falls. Sometimes literally and spoils the planning. Or it rains figuratively and discouragement comes. Someone forgets to show up. Or you begin to doubt why you'd want to do this in the first place. And at that moment, all the external signs and most things logical seem to point to a hasty "retreat". To abandon the plans and stay home. But often stepping out in faith and going for it, allows God to work through the stumbling blocks that build up your spirit as well as your faith. There was no doubt that we were going to be safe and that we needed to be there, as I saw Him working out the details in front of my eyes. It refreshed my spirit, like rain always does.
So close I can almost hear those air ducts breathing again. Yes, there's hope in the air here in Florida. The winds of change have landed. In our backyard. Now if the A/C guy can rip out the old junk without tearing down the house and replace it (but not with Folger's crystals), then we'll be happy campers and back in business. It's amazing how 7 weeks in the humid Florida weather, without A/C can not only affect your mood, but your house. Even though we've had fans a blazin' and all windows open (I wonder if the neighbors just think we've gotten louder), it's gotten "funky" in here. A close friend used the term, "houseitosis". And it fits. Can't wait to actually get some fresh air circulation. I can almost taste it. Almost.
...then don't come over to our house. We're ending week 5 of roasting in our own juices, as our AC unit has decided "no mas". It began innocently enough as our electric bill suddenly skyrocketed one month. Our efficiency unit of cooling was neither, efficient nor cooling. We'd already put our names on the list for an energy audit, but still haven't heard anything. In addition to the house never cooling and the AC unit never shutting off, we noticed pools of water cascading thru some drywall and leaking into the garage. The first week was spent trying to dry up the water and let the AC "unfreeze" and access what to do. Easy...just call a pro, right? Over the next 4 weeks it's been a series of unreturned calls, missed appointments, assessments and estimates that kept being pushed further down the road.....from 3 different vendors. I'm trying to throw money at them to say, "Please come and rescue us from this Florida summer that doesn't know that it's fall. Give my wife some air!" But it was like some of them couldn't care less. I know it's been easily 95+ in our split level, even though we have all the windows open and every conceivable fan going. Thankfully, the woman who lived here with her family before us had hot flashes and installed a small window unit downstairs in the playroom. So we've temporarily moved in, downstairs and are sleeping on an air mattress and the couch. Going upstairs to go to the bathroom or get clothes has never been more of an adventure.
Today we got a phone call from our AC man who has now faxed our estimate to the city so we can begin to see light (or feel cool) at the end of the wind tunnel. If you think I'm kidding about the heat, you can practically see the heat waves rippling in the house after reaching the 4th step from the playroom. See, I'll take a picture of something on the wall and post it for you to view. Did I mention it's hot in here?
