17 Feb Got Plans?
“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” – Proverbs 16:9
I got plans. Lots of plans. You can say I’m what they call, “a planner”.
Yes I’m proud to identify with an enneagram 3, and planning brings me joy.
But if you’ve been following recently, along with my Trailer Failure a couple weeks ago, my plans haven’t really been panning out the way I’d like.
So went this past weekend. I was supposed to make a four day trip to pick up my mini Jersey heifer & bull – one in Minnesota, the other in Montana. I planned the trip to a T, booked all the hotels, mapped out all the stops on Google Maps, booked a flight for my mother in law who was joining me on the haul.
I spent days preparing and made maybe trips to our local farm supply store to ensure we had what we needed.
I watched the weather for weeks. It wasn’t supposed to snow over the weekend. So that was good. But it was going to be cold.
We didn’t realize how cold until a few days out.
The weather forecasted overnight lows of -20 degrees F and daytime highs of -2 degrees F. (For those of you who work in Celsius that’s -29 C to -19 C, wow that sounds even worse!)
Surely, the forecast would change, right God? I asked him, as I put my trip in His hands.
But as the day of our trip drew closer, the polar vortex that was descending on the US only seemed to settle in more and more (poor Texans, I feel for you!)
No, the weather didn’t change, and a day before our planned trip, we decided to call it.
We didn’t want the cows to be in danger. We didn’t want to risk being in danger ourselves.
It was a hard call, and I didn’t want to make it.
Another canceled plan. Another big nope.
All that work, and now we’re back to square one.
I had to call all the contacts to let them know and cancel all the bookings. I had to find someone who I could hire to haul the animals for me because we didn’t have any other weekend we could do it, and the animals needed to be picked up soon. Everyone was very understanding.
But I was disgruntled. I was restless.
I unwillingly accepted the fate of that weekend.
Saturday came, Sunday passed, and it was Monday. The day I was supposed to be getting back from my trip. I had planned to be dropping my cows off at my friend’s farm on Monday. But I was doing big fat nothing.
So I decided to redirect my energy and re-organize my house.
I went to the store in the morning, and picked up 6 big storage bins. Might as well prepare for our move later this year.
I left the storage bins in our living room and started cleaning out the pantry.
Halfway through, I decided to put some things in the basement, where we were storing a lot of our other things. No use keeping the kitchen cluttered.
I walked downstairs, carrying a box of empty egg cartons, and suddenly heard the sound of loud, rushing water.
What in the world?!? Was Nick taking a shower? Why would I hear it all the way down here?
I turned the corner into the basement guest room and before my own two eyes, there was a veritable waterfall, pouring down from two air vents in the ceiling. It flowed unceasingly and the carpet was starting to become waterlogged. Freezing cold water was pooling up around my feet.
We found out later that one of the copper pipes leading to the exterior faucet had burst from the subzero temperatures.
Ignorant of this at the time, but knowing it was an emergency, I ran upstairs and grabbed the storage bins I had just bought. It was a miracle that they were right there. I yelled for Nick, and he and the boys ran downstairs. We stuck the bins directly under the vents and quickly dragged all of our things out. The water continued to gush, and Nick ran to try to figure out how to shut off the main water line.
The water from one vent filled a 65-quart storage bin in about 5 minutes. We were able to shut the water line off in just as much time.
If it had been another 15 minutes later that I went into the basement, the entire floor would have been covered with water. Another 30 minutes or an hour, and who knows how many feet it may have risen.
Nick and the boys hardly ever go in the basement. I don’t often either. But if I hadn’t been home – if I had been out hauling my cows, they may never have known that the basement was filling with water until either the electricity started getting affected, or the water came up the stairs.
The damage would’ve been immense, and all of our things that we’ve been storing in the basement while we wait for our house to be built, would’ve been lost.
Our landlord was thankful too that we caught it when we did. It was isolated mostly to that guest room in the back. It would’ve caused him much greater cost if it had gotten any worse.
Even though we had to be without water for 24 hours, we praised the Lord for how things turned out.
I’m not sure why He’s teaching me this over and over again this season (probably because I need to learn it!), but the failed plans that I was disgruntled about on Friday, Saturday & Sunday, I gave thanks to God for on Monday.
I may plan my way, but I am so incredibly grateful that the Lord guides my steps.