On the outside, our house looks the best it has looked since we bought it 2 1/2 years ago. The landscaping I had done in the spring has blossomed—literally! I absolutely love the vibrant colors outside my cute house.
As much as I love the outside this year, when we bought the house, the inside was what sold us. The perfect layout. Finishes that appealed to our tastes. So when we began noticing a few cracks in walls over the past year or so, we assumed they were simply the foundation shifting and settling, as so often happens in Texas.
But then this one appeared, signaling, perhaps, something greater. An unseen issue. So my husband called a structural engineer to come have a look.
The young engineer took measurements and said, yes, there was an issue, but he kept reassuring me it was probably one which would be easily fixed. Until he opened the crawl space to our pier-and-beam foundation. It was so full of water that he couldn’t go under the house.
And that began the saga we are living now. Water remediation. Two different plumbing companies. The engineers again. The gist is that every piece of wood under our house was saturated with water. There are also several plumbing leaks, apparently, besides the two that got fixed. And now we wait to hear back from our insurance, to know what they will cover and to begin to make a repair plan.
It’s been stressful, to say the least! But as so often happens, the Lord reminded me that I’m living more than just a frustrating situation. I’m living a parable.
How many times are our lives like my house? We look great on the outside—and the inside. A few cracks might appear in this situation or that, but no big deal. We’re human, right? Until a larger crack shows itself, revealing a hidden issue. A problem in the foundation of our lives. One that sometimes requires a complete overhaul of what is holding up our “house.”
In Matthew 7, Jesus said if we hear His words and act on them, we will be like the man who built his house on the rock. When the rain and floods and wind came against that house, it stood firm.
My literal house is not built on a rock. Granted, it’s not built on sand, either. More like clay. But clay shifts and sinks, expands and contracts. It reacts to the elements. My actual house might not fall completely, but there is significant damage in need of repair.
So, too, is my life, even when I am walking with the Lord. Cracks occasionally appear—a loss of self-control, a shifting of my gaze from Jesus, a hardening of my heart toward a person. When they do, I can ignore them, or I can look deeper, see if the cracks signal a need for foundation repair.
I’m so glad I can run to Jesus. Confess. Receive grace and forgiveness. I’m so thankful I can hear His words once again and choose to act on them, adding solid rock to my foundation. As we repair the foundation of our literal house, I’ll be paying close attention to the voice of the Holy Spirit as well. For I know when I pray to see the places in my heart and mind that need realigned to His word, He is faithful to show me.