When the Work Finally Began Again

A new year brought new movement.

After nearly three weeks of waiting, the plumbers finally arrived. The ground had already been leveled, and the framing for the foundation had been sitting quietly in place, waiting for the next step. That morning the crew pulled out the blueprints, stepped into the framed space, and began measuring where everything would go.

Soon the dirt was marked with lines and numbers. Pipes were staged nearby, and the layout of the house—bathrooms, serving areas, overflow refrigerators and freezers, laundry—began to take shape beneath our feet.

It was fascinating to watch.

There were questions, of course. Lots of them.

“Is this wall here?”

“Where exactly did you want the ice machine?”

"Do you have the exact dimensions for the vanity and their sink placement?

“Is this measurement correct?”

Each answer mattered. Once the plumbing went in, it would become the hidden structure the rest of the house would rely on.

But it wasn’t long before something seemed… off.

Measurements that should have lined up weren’t quite matching. Pipes that should have landed in one place were landing somewhere else. Four of us stood there in the dirt, blueprints in hand, trying to figure out what wasn’t working.

For nearly an hour we measured, re-measured, and talked it through. Nothing made sense.

And then—of all people—it was me who suddenly noticed one of the issues.

One small detail that explained at least part of the discrepancy. It didn’t solve everything, but it was enough to confirm that we needed to call the crew who had laid out the foundation.

Something in the original measurements had shifted along the way.

Of course, this realization came at the exact moment I needed to leave for meetings at the church.

This would become a recurring theme in the weeks ahead. Every time I needed to leave the property for work… a moment requiring decisions would arrive.

The foundation crew's boss pulled in just before I left, and as I drove toward town, we continued talking through things on the phone. Measurements were checked. Adjustments were made.

By the time my meeting ended and I called back, they had resolved the issues.

Three of them, to be exact. Everything was back on track.

Sometimes progress looks like a visible building. Other times it looks like careful correction.

After my meeting, I headed to the door and window supplier. It was time to finalize selections so the order could be placed. With custom materials, timing mattered. If we wanted them installed in the coming weeks, they needed to be ordered immediately.

Little did I know this decision would become its own saga in the weeks ahead.

(But that story will come later.)

The next morning, I was preparing to head back to Dallas for a leadership conference with several members of our church staff. Before leaving town, I stopped by the door and window company to drop off the deposit so they could begin the order.

What I expected to be a quick stop turned into nearly an hour and a half.

With twenty-three windows and twenty-one doors, there was a lot of counting… and recounting.

Measurements were double-checked. Orders were adjusted. Details clarified. By the time I finally left, the paperwork was complete, and the order was in motion.

Soon after, I met up with the rest of the team, and we began our drive to Dallas.

The conference itself was wonderful. There was learning, laughter, and the kind of conversations that deepen both leadership and friendship. Time away with people who share a heart for ministry is always refreshing.

But even while I was there, the work at home continued.

Phone calls came in periodically—questions from the crew working on the house.

More measurements. More clarifications. More decisions.

What I hadn’t fully anticipated when beginning this project was just how many questions would arise that required immediate answers.

Questions about structure.

Questions about placement.

Questions about materials.

And often… questions I wasn’t entirely sure I knew the answer to. It turns out building something requires far more decisions than one might imagine.

My head has been spinning a little ever since 2026 began.

But in many ways, that is the nature of creation.

When something new is being built, it demands attention. It requires patience. It stretches you to learn things you never expected to need. And yet through it all, I am reminded that this house is not only being built through plans and blueprints.

It is being built through obedience.

Through perseverance.

Through the willingness to keep showing up—even when the answers aren’t always clear.

And as you’ll see in the weeks ahead…

The questions are far from over.

But neither is the grace that carries us through them.