Misadventures in Love and Carpentry My oldest Daughter needs a room of her own. She has had to share her existence with her little sister for 17 years of her life, plus 4 years with dorm-mates in college. So for the season that she is still living with us, it has been clear that she needs her own space. The dilemma is that we have only four bedrooms, all of which are currently occupied by the other 7 inhabitants of the household as well as three kitties and two dogs. So being the creative, thoughtful parents that we are, Andy and I melded minds. After a few suggestions from other creative and thoughtful parents, we decided that the only possible solution would be to convert a portion of the garage into a restful and sister-free bedroom. Our tightly strung budget does not have room in it for hiring a contractor (which would be my choice if asked) so Andy bravely stepped up and volunteered his skills and expertise. This is not a bad thing necessarily, but it does give me reason to fear. From the beginning of our marriage my husband has had a love affair with tools. In the Coast Guard he began his career working in the engine room of the USCGC Planetree. He already had a love of wrenches, screwdrivers and oily, greasy things, but once we got married and bought our first home he began to desire things such as saws, sanders, and power drills. While I was pregnant with our beloved oldest daughter, about a month from delivery, we moved into our new home. We had been sleeping on a twin bed but were given a double bed mattress set without a frame. I knew that I might be able to get down on the floor but doubted that I would be getting back up until Meg was born so I suggested we look at bed frames. We looked at the furniture store and everything was more expensive than our Coast Guard income could afford. I had been reading different magazines and saw pictures of beds that were on platforms, I showed it to Andy and said what about this? “No problem,” he told me and said he could build it. Being blinded with love and filled with stories of his prowess behind the blade of a power saw, I gave him my blessing. For days he crouched over paper, scratching and scribbling madly, finally on the third day he proudly showed me his masterpiece. It looked like a very large box but I smiled and exclaimed with wonder at all the nicely drawn lines and pictures. Next he dashed to Don Abel’s Building Supply where soon our little car was bulging with all the wood and other hardware necessary to build the perfect bed. By the time he was done we could have bought two bed frames but this was to be his masterpiece, the crowning glory of our first home. For a whole weekend Andy cut, hammered and drilled and finally on Sunday evening came the unveiling of the bed frame. I stood in awe at this incredibly large box that overwhelmed our small room; it stood about waist high and thoroughly intimidated the night stand beside it. Andy proudly placed the mattresses upon the platform (which now came up to my shoulders) and offered to boost me onto my new bed. Once up I was not really sure how to get down but I had to admit, the view was commanding, I could see myself in the bathroom mirror and could actually see my toes for the first time in months! Andy brought in a small step stool to aide in the climb and it was kind of nice to be high off the ground. In case of flood we could stay on high ground and, if all else failed, flip it over and we would have an ark. Sleeping was pretty good at a higher altitude and just as I was getting used to hurdling up the side, disaster struck. Andy had come home after being gone on an oil spill and wanted to lie down for a little while. I was in the living room when I heard a loud crash and Andy hollering. I ran into the bedroom and found Andy in a pile of wood and mattresses. The bed had collapsed when Andy had ascended to the top. Thankfully, he was not hurt, although his pride took a beating. My Parents brought over a bed frame to replace the pile of rubble we once called our bed. With little knowledge in the area of carpentry, we tried to build something that was beyond our understanding. Consequently, that is the result when we try to create something on our own without God’s blueprint for our lives. When we try to build a ministry or make something happen without Jesus the Carpenter laying out the direction and guiding our path, it will fall apart just like our poor bed frame. We learned the hard way, but thankfully Andy went back to the basics and over the past twenty-three years he has improved his wood working skills and has completed many successful projects like the bookshelves he lovingly assembled for me in order to display my passion of reading. Not only that, but Andy has passed on his love of all things “buzzing” and “whirring” to his son and they are looking forward to this time of male bonding and creating Meghan’s room. But just in case, does anyone have the name of a good carpenter? | 
