When Water Happens Again Part One

I was recently in my crawlspace, lying on my back wrapping ductwork with insulation. Reaching over to grab my roll of foil tape, I slapped my hand around on the clean white vapor barrier that lines the ground beneath the house. I couldn’t find the tape, but I did slap my hand into something I wasn’t expecting.

Water.

What in the world?

I sat up and swung my head around, aiming my headlamp toward the spot. My heart immediately sank. There were pools of water sitting on top of my beautiful white vapor barrier.

Now my heart started racing.

Was it a leaking pipe?

I slowly crawled toward the puddles, trying to avoid them, but everywhere I planted my hands and knees created another low spot, causing the water to pool beneath me. My wife was upstairs in the kitchen running water while I frantically scanned the maze of pipes above my head, searching for a leak.

Nothing.

Then I looked toward the outdoor spigot where the pipe entered through the rim joist. Did I just see a tiny glint of water in my headlamp?

I yelled through my face respirator.

“Can you hear me?”

She shut the water off and answered, “Yes! Are you okay?”

“There’s water down here. I need you to go outside and turn the hose on for ten seconds, then shut it back off, okay?”

“Okay!”

A few moments later I heard the squeak of the faucet opening. I braced for the worst.

Nothing.

Ten seconds later it squeaked shut.

She called back, “Is that okay? I did the faucet out front.”

I shook my head. “No. I need you to turn on the faucet in the backyard. Ten seconds, then off.”

“Okay.”

As she walked around the back of the house, I crawled over beneath the backyard hose connection and looked up at the pipe.

There it was. Just a touch of water.

Outside, I heard the faucet squeak open. For a couple of seconds…nothing happened.

Then it was as if a fire hose exploded directly into my face.

An unbelievable amount of water blasted from what was apparently a burst pipe, spraying me, the crawlspace, the floor joists, the insulation, and my once pristine white vapor barrier.

I started screaming.

“TURN IT OFF!! TURN IT OFFFFFFF!!”

My voice went hoarse. It felt like being inside a submarine that had just been torpedoed—shout out to the submariners. Those were the longest ten seconds of my life.

Finally, I heard the faucet squeak shut. Silence. I sat there in shock as water dripped from everything. My dry crawlspace had become a soaking wet mess.

A moment later my wife leaned over the kitchen floor, completely unaware of what had just happened.

“Is that okay?”

I shouted through my soaked respirator.

“NO! THERE’S WATER EVERYWHERE!”

Ever had a day like that?

Ironically, this wasn’t my first crawlspace battle with water. When we first moved into this house, a heavy rain left nearly a foot of water beneath it. That launched a two-year project of cleaning everything out, digging 140 feet of french drain and installing a sump pump system that now works beautifully. I honestly thought I was finished dealing with water.

Apparently, God had other plans.

Sometimes the very trial you thought was behind you finds its way back into your life. You finally think you’ve conquered it, learned the lesson, and moved on…only to discover you’re standing in another puddle asking, Lord, why again?

Yet Scripture never promises we won’t pass through deep waters. It promises that when we do, God will be with us. He never wastes a trial. Every setback has a purpose, every interruption has a lesson, and every unexpected flood is another opportunity to trust the One who sees what we cannot.

Sometimes…water happens again.