“Where in the world do you live that you do not have indoor plumbing??” asked a co-worker who’d seen a recent Facebook post.
“In a barn, but I have a toilet now.” I responded. Or, as Ethan says, “A shed. A shed with a bed.”
It’s nothing short of miraculous to be able to flush a toilet. How many times do we habitually do this with no sense of wonder? I guess I have a newfound appreciation and education of pipes, PVC, poop pumps, etc. It’s intricate and complicating. And my husband worked sooo hard to provide it for me.
I went 99 days without a toilet. Of course, I have had luxuries like electricity (only 55 days without it, directly); and now a window a/c unit—with bedside remote. Hopefully the camp toilet is a thing of history and will only be used for its intended purpose—camping. Although, my niece Lyn refers to our living quarters as glamping=glamorous camping.
Sometimes Scott and I lie in bed at night and wonder, “Who does this?”
Well, we do. We work until we run out of $$ and then we stop for the month. We are truly, honest-to-goodness broke by the end of the month. Two months ago I had one cent in savings and less than a dollar in my checking. I didn’t have enough gas to even get to work. BUT I remembered we had fuel in the red, lawnmower gas can. So, Scott put it in my car. God sustains and we made it to payday. It’s not fun and it’s definitely uncomfortable, but it's also an adventure!
I know it will be a year before it’s more like we want it (aka presentable to my sister who thinks I’ve lost my mind), but I do revel in these times. It’s the basic necessities (like a coffee pot) and I know that the Lord is preparing us to be uncomfortable and bug-infested somewhere else in the world where we can be a light in the dark.