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Friday, October 12, 2007


When Michael and I built our deck this summer, we picked up a pergola to sit on top of it. If you don’t know what a pergola is, basically it is four pillars that hold up a row of beams, and acts as a type of roof. It doesn’t keep out the rain or the sun, but it’s a great system for growing vines that will eventually hang over our heads. I love it.

It’s been standing all summer without a problem, so I figured that all was good—until last Saturday that is. When I walked in the kitchen, I heard an unrecognizable sound booming from the back yard.

“The per—pergola!!!” I screamed to Michael, who I’m so thankful was sitting in the living room, rather than putting in a day at work. “The pergola!” It was all I could think to say as I saw this enormous structure leaning outside on our dining table.

Within seconds, Michael, our neighbor, and I were hoisting the pillars all back in place. It was windy, but we had seen far worse winds over the summer. I have no idea why the pergola decided to come down on this particular day, and then threaten to come down over and over again as I witnessed it sway in the wind.

Immediately Michael shot out the door en route to the lumberyard. He had put off fastening it to the deck since he didn’t have the required screws, but now we had no choice. It had to be fastened. My nine-year-old daughter, Maddy and I were left to hold the pillars, just to ensure it didn’t come down again.

It’s been a very long time since I felt my heart beating as fast as it was. Every time a gust of wind shook the structure I feared it would come down once again. My legs were shaking as were my arms, but I stood there holding the pillar as best that I could. Then I did what I always do in situations like this—I called my dad. One of the kids brought the cordless phone to the pillar, and with shaky hands I dialed his number.

It’s nice that my parents live close by, especially when toilets are overflowing, ovens catch on fire, or pergolas are swaying in the wind. Dad was there within ten minutes, sitting on a chair propped up against a pillar while I leaned on a table propped up against another. Dad is always calm in a storm. Always. There’s just something about that man that doesn’t sway him when tragedy hits, even in those moments when it hits real hard. I can always rely on him to calm my nerves and to guide Michael and I through difficult times. It’s a gift I suppose, that not only reminds me that I’m safe because he’s there, but also the fact that most of all that I’m safe in this world because I have a heavenly Father who I can find refuge in through every storm of my life.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Selah.” ~ Psalm 46:1-3

In time, those vines with grow, adding shade to our yard, and protection from the sun. I look forward to those days--abiding in the vine, as I fellowship in the cool of the day, with my Lord.

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Blogger Denise said...

God bless you dear.

October 12, 2007 at 4:59 AM  
Blogger Amy Grant Bayliss said...

This was great Darlene!

That is awesome about your Dad. My grandpa was that way for me. Nothing phased him. Thanks for the reminder of the comfort I felt with him and that I continue to feel with God.

October 12, 2007 at 10:22 AM  
Blogger eph2810 said...

I am so glad that your dad was close by until Michael was able to fasten the beams. It must be a beautiful place to hang out with the Lord. Oh, I will be so happy when we complete all our renovations and I can sit in the seat outside to meet with my Lord.

Blessings to you and yours...

October 13, 2007 at 11:07 PM  
Blogger Tammy said...

What a refuge He is! I love the photo and it does look quite inviting!

October 14, 2007 at 8:54 AM  

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It is good to hear from you... thank you so very much for leaving a note on the table. That makes us smile!

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