Don’t Trust the Truss

“You need to trust Me.” That was the answer I heard in my spirit to my dilemma of a heavy snow load on my roof. The snow had been falling for quite some time and its effects had left the roof of my house with at least 24 inches of snow.

This would not be the only time I would hear those words.

 

Normally through the winter, several times I would borrow my neighbor’s 28 foot ladder and snow rake to remove 2-3 foot piles of snow on my roof (three stories off the ground). This was part of the maintenance requirements of having an old house that was inadequately insulated. And it was something that I really didn’t mind doing.

 

But I had an injury that was preventing me from being able to use a snow rake to get the snow off my roof. I knew that unless I got the snow off the roof, I was in danger of having ice dams form and possibly leak into my house.

 

I also knew that I couldn’t trust the trusses of my 1912 home to be able to handle continual snow being piled up upon it. And so I would go through several months of the winter seeing the roof and wondering just how much would be too much before the water would find a way into my house as I watched massive icicles forming on the edge of the roof.

 

“You need to trust Me (not the truss);” again would be the answer as I would hear the weather report of more snow coming and I would wonder just how much those old trusses could actually hold.

 

Those simple words; “You need to trust Me” came not as a scolding but rather as a “peace that surpassed all understanding.” (Philippians 4:7). And it was my choice whether or not I would choose to put my trust in God or in the trusses.

 

Eventually, we had a February thaw and the snow melted off the roof; or at least to the point that I could trust the truss and breathe a little easier.

 

A few days later, we had a snow storm that left three to four foot drifts on the roof. It was one of those snow falls that started with freezing rain and then dropped so much snow that we couldn’t get out for several days.

 

And once again, “You need to trust Me” would be the answer I heard in my spirit as I heard that one of my neighbors had hired a company to remove the ice dams on her roof.

 

Finally, when March brought warm weather and the roof became clear, my sprit sighed knowing that (perhaps) the roof was finally clear until next winter. My God had proven, through a simple test, that He could be trusted to take care of me. And the application could be applied to all areas of my life.

 

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God;  and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 NKJV)

For the Want of a Caution Sign

Eight dollars and seventy cents is on my mind today as I am getting some things in order before my busy day tomorrow when I will have surgery to repair the damage left by a slip on wet floor during which my shoulder was dislocated three months ago.  

 

Eight dollars and seventy cents; that’s the cost of an inexpensive “Caution Wet Floor” sign to put in the area where the floor had just been mopped.

 

Eight dollars and seventy cents; that’s it; that’s all it would have taken to save thousands of dollars of medical bills including an ambulance ride, the cost of all that was done in the emergency room to put the shoulder back in the socket, the trips to the orthopedic doctor, as well as the physical therapy that was done in an attempt to bring healing to the shoulder. 

 

Eight dollars and seventy cents; that’s it; that’s all it would have taken to save the cost of the MRI that was needed to discover why after seven weeks the pain was still there and the shoulder wasn’t better.

 

Eight dollars and seventy cents; that’s it; that’s all it would have taken to have prevented the fail which resulted in collateral damage to other areas of my life such as not being able to sleep very long at night since the injury due to the pain. And not being able to shovel the snow, lift weights or exercise or play hockey. Or teach my granddaughter to skate this winter.

 

Eight dollars and seventy cents; that’s it; that’s all it would have taken to save the cost of the surgery, the trips to the orthopedic doctor, and the physical therapy afterwards. And, there is the cost of time off work, another LONG time of no activity, no driving, no lifting, or playing hockey as I am looking at three to six months until it might be fully recovered. 

 

Now, I’m not mad; I’m really not. Accidents happen. In fact the reason the floor was being mopped was because someone saw a mess on the floor and took action to clean it up; they were doing a good deed! But all might have been prevented if someone had placed out a sign that cost eight dollars and seventy cents.

 

So where are the places that you are in recovery simply because you didn’t do something that would have cost so much less if you had taken the time to do it when you had the chance?

 

In our spiritual life, we dare not procrastinate in doing something tomorrow instead today, who knows what the cost will be. It is also unwise to delay healing a broken relationship or dealing with anger or getting things right , today, instead of waiting to see what the cost will be in the future. Who says that we have another day? The Bible says;

 

 “The days of our lives are seventy years;
And if by reason of strength they are eighty years,
Yet their boast is only labor and sorrow;
For it is soon cut off, and we fly away” (Psalm 90:10 NKJV)

“Behold, now is the accepted time; behold, now is the day of salvation.” (2 Corinthians 6:2b NKJV)

 

Kind of makes you wonder what will be the cost of not doing something now when you have the chance?

 

“For the want of a nail the shoe was lost,
 For the want of a shoe the horse was lost,
 For the want of a horse the rider was lost,
 For the want of a rider the battle was lost,
 For the want of a battle the kingdom was lost,
 And all for the want of a horseshoe-nail.” – Benjamin Franklin