Remember when Mike suprised me with tickets for Valentine’s to the Casting Crowns’ concert. We had a fabulous night out with friends and praised our God with one of my favorite bands.
At the concert they showed some pictures of a trip the band took with Compassion International doing work in Africa with fresh water well drilling. They showed a beautiful and moving video of children walking MILES each day with a couple gallons of water from little mud puddles. I was moved. But complacent.
Saturday evening, Mike said, “The well is going to be chlorinated on Monday morning and we won’t have drinking water for a day and a half. Maybe we can go to my Mom’s for a while.” City girls have blessed little comprehension for such things as wells. At least this city girl.
So Monday afternoon they showed up and pumped chlorine into our well. And then we ran the faucets in the house till it sucked up the chlorine to clean our pipes. I can’t begin to tell you all the spiritual analogies that I’ve been having about all this. But suffice it to say that we could not drink said water, we’d be very ill.
So, we ate at my precious MIL’s for the last two nights. The kids and I. Mike is chisel plowing around the clock. Literally.
So last night, I opened up the new water hose, hualed it around back and started dumping the chlorinated water out of our well. It needed to drain for two hours. So I left for dinner with kids in tow. To return, ready for a drink at my house.
Nope. Got home and there had been a kink in the hose. It needed more time. How long had it been kinked? Had it been two hours? So I drained everything again.
This morning, Mike woke me up and said that when he got home last night (I had been in bed for a long while)and took his shower it was still chlorinated. I needed to drain it all again. Run the dishwasher, empty the hotwater heater, run the washing machine flush the faucets, and spigets. Don’t drink the water.
So now that this is a novel. I am listening to the water going in the washer, dishwasher and reheat in the hot water tank. All for a drink of fresh water. You have no idea. Maybe you do. I didn’t.
I’m listening, Lord. I can’t be complacent about the depravity in others.