What’s That I Hear?

Where did I put them? I was totally clueless. I fluffed my hair and rubbed my cheek.

 Without car keys and my cell phone, I wasn’t going anywhere.  And I didn’t want to be late.  After all, piggybacking three important appointments hadn’t been easy.  

 “Yes,” I shouted as I pulled the keychain and phone from captivity under the couch cushion. Who would think?  Now to warm up the car. 

The starter made only a funny buzzing noise. No friendly turnover. Back to the house I went, halting as I unlocked the front door and stepped in. Hmm…what’s that I hear?  It was the sound of gentle raindrops, pinging this way and that.

Glancing at the window, the strong sun rays continued to dance about.

“Wow, what was that?” 

Suddenly, all around me came the sound of gushing like a huge rainstorm.  And the turbulence was coming from the basement. Running down the rear staircase, I was immediately soaked in huge droplets coming down from everywhere. Ugh. They were forming a swimming pool in our family recreation room.

Not on my watch!

Think quickly!  Ah… what was it?  Then, glancing up to the gushing, I saw it. It was a broken pipe.

In panic mode, my new walking shoes sloppily splashed through the growing puddles. I ventured into the washing machine room, over a mound of storage boxes, around rakes and shovels and now sodden piles of laundry to the far corner, to where the shut-off valve was. 

I grabbed the long orange handle. And paused. Wondering if I should push it up or down since I hadn’t touched it … in a very long time. Rain clouding my eyes, I went with sheer instinct and pushed down. 

Immediately, the gush stopped.  “Thank God!”  I shouted, shivering off raindrops in a delightful victory dance.

Then, heaving a mop around the soaked floor, I wondered about stuff like…How I expect many things to always work. The electricity.  The kitchen gadgets.  TV.  Computer.  Stove.  My car revs up in a happy hum.  And I how I was so thankful for the unexpected peace that calmed the angst in my belly.  Happy with this awful mess?  Not!  But maybe so. 

In a quick review of the morning ... if the car had started, then I would have been on my way. Maybe not back for a very long, long time. Just think, it could have been hurricane waves of water flowing up the stairs to the kitchen door to greet me.

 So, yes, I am grateful. I stood still and squeezed out the mop. Grateful that God had heard my prayer. And had given me the understanding and strength to commandeer the situation.

Wow…all this thinking was making me hungry and thirsty. About now, I really wanted a cup of steaming coffee.  So up the steep stairs I climbed to the first floor, to my favorite place, the kitchen.  

Heading to the most proficient coffeemaker ever purchased, I readied it to prepare a lovely pot of brew. But the machine needed more water. Placing the sturdy plastic well in the sink, I flicked on the cold water. Oh, no!  What is this? The faucet was blowing air at me.  Hmm… of course. I had shut down the water.  But just maybe there was enough water still to make a single cup.  At least I hoped so.

Returning the well to the oversized coffee maker, instead, I threw in a mini coffee pod for a single cup.  I pushed the button. Nothing. Then again. The red light lit up. Great.  A pause … then a strange yawning noise.  Silence for a very long moment.  What was that?

 Water squirted up to the ceiling as the coffeemaker quaked and shook, spewing coffee grounds everywhere and leaving an almost empty pot of boiled dark water with grounds of black floating around.

The coffee machine sizzled with a burning odor and immediately shut down.

For a long moment, I stood very still.

I poured the angry brew into my cup. And sniffed. Ugh. One taste covered my tongue like a gooey oil slick. Then it exploded in my stomach. But with several heaping teaspoons of sugar, it was quite delicious! I raised the cup in the air, yelling, “Thank You God!” for the second time that day.

I hoped this wasn't the last cup this machine would ever make.

But that was okay.  I had found my phone, the car keys, the shut off value, and my way out of a flooded basement. And a most decadent cup of coffee.

The plumber would be called. And all would be good.

I smiled with a big grin. Then I glanced at the old crack in the kitchen ceiling that swept quietly across the room. 

Looks like time to pray a little more.

And that’s how I live it.