I stood in the basement, ankle deep in water that was filled
with dead millipedes feeling a bit shell-shocked as I looked around at the task
that lay ahead of me.
I’m living in a beautiful, old stone house whose basement is
comprised of three rooms with concrete floors and walls made of stone. It currently houses some of the larger
pieces of furniture I’d inherited from my parents- and boxes and tubs filled
with various items the kids had collected over the years.
The floors were now covered in water; the boxes were reeking
after being water logged for who knows how long and mildew was beginning to
cover the huge maple dining room set.
Frankly, I had no idea where to begin; no idea whatsoever.
I opened the door to the garage, and pushed open the old wooden
garage doors that led to the driveway. I looked up and saw my good friend Trixie. I had cancelled our pool date that
morning and let her know I was in a bit of a crisis. And, because she basically kicks ass, she flew across town
to aid this damsel in distress.
I looked at her with quivering lips and my head shaking in
despair. She took charge.
She quickly assessed the (disgusting) situation, we threw on
our boots and gloves and began to empty out the basement one water-logged item
at a time. I followed her lead,
thankful that someone with a clear head was helping me help myself.
After a few trips out to the driveway, I glanced up the hill
and saw two young, strapping fellas making their way from my (hot) neighbor’s house down
to me. I threw my head back and
thanked the LORD.
I recognized them immediately, as I had met them just two nights before at a rocking party at
that very home. We bonded over
several shots of, um, punch, and a cigar or two.
They worked with my neighbor, Jack, who had assessed what was wrong and fixed my broken
water heater just the night before.
Jack knew the disgusting mess
I was dealing with and sent his guys to help. I couldn’t believe it.
They quickly got to work, laughing and lightening the
mood. The clean up was not
an easy task, but they managed to get the water out of the basement, get the
drains working and helped with the heavy furniture.
We were soon joined by another amazing friend of mine named
Dixie. She just happened to
stop by with some refreshing (ahem) lemonade and offered to help with my stinky
mess.
At the end of the afternoon as I sat on my front porch
sipping lemonade and laughing with Dixie, I realized how lucky I was. While I have quite a knack for stumbling
into crazy disasters, I am also reminded that angels wrap me in their arms and
lift me up every single time.
And while those angels
are cleverly disguised as young handsome guys, friends from my youth and new
friends- they are angels.
Without a doubt, they are
beautiful, lovely, incredible angels.
