Part One: “Honey, the sink is gurgling…”

“Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.” James 1:3

Last fall, my wife and I became first-time homeowners. We purchased a 1962 ranch house that had great bones but was largely outdated and in need of some loving care.

I’m not the smartest guy, but I do learn fast. What I’ve been learning in this house is that I’m a magnet for curveballs.

“Honey, the sink is gurgling when you flushed the toilet.” My sweet wife told me this great news as I came down the hallway toward the living room. My mind started racing to figure it out.

Clog? Plumbing vent? Full septic tank? Complete failure of all systems???

It was Saturday, and I had some work to do in the crawlspace under the house anyway. So, after listening to the gurgles, I told her that while I was down there I’d check out the plumbing, also.

I got my “space suit” on and layered up to venture into the crawlspace…with respirator, goggles straight out of a 9th grade biology class, and gloves.

I went into the laundry room and removed the access panel in the floor, setting it aside. I shined my flashlight into the hole and saw the plastic vapor barrier on the floor, three feet down. Then something caught my eye and my heart sank.

Water. The dreaded water. There were a few 4” water puddles on the plastic. I muttered and sputtered inside my respirator, sounding like Darth Vader stuck in NY traffic. My wife heard me and came in.

“What’s wrong?” I just pointed at the hole and began moaning about the water puddles on the plastic lined floor. She couldn’t hear me through the respirator. “What? What are you saying?”

I was annoyed. The Tyvek suit was trapping body heat and my blood pressure was rising. The goggles were fogging up. It wasn’t her fault, all I could think about was a leaky crawlspace, time, and money. So, I just pointed into the hole and said, “Water! Water!” (It probably sounded like a muffled “Awter! Awter!”)

She got the idea and her head sank. “Oh no, what does that mean?”

“Means I have to go down and find the leak!” I grumbled some more. Dangling my legs into the hole, I put a hand on each side of the opening, and lowered myself down onto the plastic floor.

I started to sink. The dry plastic sheeting was actually floating on 7” of water in our flooded (1,250 sq ft) crawlspace. But now I’m past the point of lifting myself out of the hole and there’s nothing under my feet but deeper water.

I yell into my muffled mask. My wife ran over to assist in the strangest looking rescue attempt ever imagined. Dressed in a Tyvek suit, yelling incoherently into a respirator, and sporting safety goggles while disappearing into the floor…never thought I’d go out THIS WAY, Lord.

She grabbed me under the arms and began to pull…making it much harder to maintain my grip. I yelled to let go of my arms…she did, then I dropped into that cold water with a shout.

(She later stated that she had no idea what I was yelling about because the mask muffled me, but thought that an underground river was sweeping me away as I disappeared into the hole….)

I found a bucket to step up on then climbed out of that cold, dark hole. I sat there trying to calculate how to remedy this disaster. I was horrified and in shock. No words, only bewilderment. I ripped off the mask and the goggles, throwing them aside with great flair.

I wasn’t thinking about the Lord or His promises to me. I was simply stuck in that horrific moment. Ever been there?

…to be continued…