I'll never forget the dreadful, sinking feeling I had when I visited the site where our house was to be built on our property in South Carolina. I had flown to Spartanburg with Arielle who was just a baby at the time. I rented a car and drove out to Oconee County to our 7 acres in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. I was there to check on our builder. We were having trouble communicating with him, as he seemed to be avoiding us. We needed to know what was going on with our house. Fred was busy at work and planned to drive down in a few days.
I drove the windy road to the top of the hill. The builder was there that day, to my great relief. But when he saw me, he took off in the woods. I saw he had built a flimsy shelter that was supposed to be our garage. It was just a bare skeleton of wood frame. I carried Arielle over the rocky, uneven ground and then tramped through the loose fill dirt to the place where our home was to be built. Now I knew nothing of home building. But when I saw what looked like just an outline of cement in the shape of a house, I knew something was seriously wrong. This man had been given months of time and our life's savings to build us a house. What had happened?
Shaky and scared, I put Arielle back in her carseat and drove the two hours to my mother's house in North Carolina. I called Fred with the bad news. We were in for a long battle. Our builder had cheated us out of our money and was only giving the appearance of building so we would continue to send him checks. I'm not sure now that he even knew how to build a house. Our dream of moving south ended that day. We sold the beautiful property but never recouped our house money.
Today I read Luke 6:46-49: "Why do you call me Lord, Lord, and not do what I tell you? Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like: he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built. But the one who hears and does not do them is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. When the stream broke against it, immediately it fell, and the ruin of that house was great."
I immediately knew the foundation the builder lay on that loose soil would not support the two-story log home we had dreamed of. It was not built firmly on the rock below the surface. I knew our dreams were shattered. Our decision to move south had not been built on a rock either. We had hastily made our plans and rushed headlong into disaster. Still, so many times through the years I have thanked God for this calamity in our lives. Our motives for moving away were not right, so we suffered the consequences. But what another planned for harm, God intended for good. I could write volumes on the blessings and lessons that came from our financial ruin.
Today we are not building a literal house, but how well am I hearing the voice of my Lord and doing what he says? Every day requires digging deep, seeking his face, doing his will. Fred and I survived our disaster because our faith was on the bedrock. We knew God had not betrayed us. We went back to our strong foundation and built a new life. The building continues. Storms may beat and batter us, but we will not be shaken.
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