In the Eaton Hall mechanical room, there are two boilers. A hot water heater. A couple of air handlers. All kinds of electrical panels—some dead, some living.
There are pumps, pipes, conduits where phone and communication lines merge and disperse.
We even have a tunnel.
A crawl space that connects the Eaton Hall mechanical room to a small mechanical room in the basement of the Preschool.
Maybe, the youth should forget about selling pumpkins in the Fall. Consideration should be given to transitioning to a haunted bowels of the basement tour at Trinity during Halloween.
Who knows Chip and Flip could make cameo appearances as the sump pump mudmumblers or the boiler buzzards with a guaranteed admission discount slashed from $39.95 to $19.95.
Mechanical rooms in this old church building make me weary.
Financial disaster, in the form of a piece of equipment failing is always lurking in a mechanical room. Its the law of the darkness— where deep inside a pump a worn coupler shreds, fails. The pump squawks and shrieks in its mechanized death until the power is cut.
For months, we’ve been carefully monitoring two sump pumps in a well deep in the concrete floor. These pumps perform a critical function—they remove intruding ground water.
On Tuesday, a skilled technician who is familiar with cantankerous sump pumps came back to install a new switch for a supposedly faulty one.
In preparing for this installation, the technician discovered a loose screw. This screw was impacting the proper operation of that pump.
The technician simply tightened down the screw. Following this reconnection, he adjusted a float mechanism, and turned back on the electricity. In a matter of seconds, the pump was engaged and working properly.
When the technician reported his findings, I was relieved to hear this good news, and yet, I wondered why can’t the complications of daily living be so simple?
How different this world might be if it simply came down to finding and tightening a loose screw.
James Taylor is a gifted songwriter, singer, and musician.
He is also a survivor.
At some point in his career, Mr. Taylor had to tighten the screws of his lifestyle in order to make it to another day.
In the third stanza of his song “Fire and Rain,” Mr. Taylor wrote:
“Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus?
You’ve got to help me make a stand.
You’ve just got to see me through another day.
My body’s aching and my time is at hand,
And I won’t make it any other way.”
In this chaotic world, at this very moment, there is a human being who is hoping that Jesus is looking down upon them. That person no matter his/her circumstances needs help in making a stand.
What does it take to be seen through another day when no other options seem possible?
What are the chances that the right person with the right screwdriver will arrive and tighten down the loose screw for the person in need?
Might that screw tightener be you, me, we, us?
The other day, I stumbled upon this line of scripture: “Let me alone, for my days are a breath.”
Those words came from Job chapter 7 verse 16.
“For my days are a breath” reminds me of how quick time moves.
For that person who needs a screw tightened his/her time “is at hand.”
How will I respond if it is up to me to help that person to “make a stand?”
Making a stand is a “breath.”
So is tightening a screw.
might be baloney 
Good morning, a cold morning here with the wind coming off the water. The breeze that cools and is delightful in summer is chilling in the winter months. Having seen 40 summers here at our cottage by the sea, we’ve been aware of many “loose screws”, some of them ours! May I be the tightener to someone today! Your stories are a delight!
LikeLike
Love your description of your coastal winter morning compared to a summer one, and yes, you could write a book about your 40 summers by the sea. Agree, we all have our “loose screw” moments, and some of those might involve helping others too. I appreciate your kind comment. Be safe, Bill
LikeLike
Good morning. Knowing that you are from Burlington, NC this may be of interest. In 1985 we bought this unassuming cottage by the sea, purchased from a Burlington family, the Swan’s. It was named Swan’s Nest, a rental for the previous 10 years. There is little that remains of that long ago dwelling, that I still recall fondly! I can’t help but think there were many happy times here at Swan Nest, known now as simply #428, as our grown children and grandchildren have named it! “Let’s go to #428!” How I relish in every visit and every memory!
LikeLike
Thanks for sharing the cottage history. I can tell there is lots of affection for your home, and there is nothing like sharing this special place with your family. You are correct, every visit is something to cherish.
LikeLike