Kit and I worked on God-honoring projects to the limits of our strength last fall. We expected January to be a relief. But a number of serious misfortunes converged on us. Then Kit went to California to be with her dying mother. In Kit’s absence, a week of severe cold—see Kit’s frog pond—froze our impossible to access water pipes. If any pipes burst great damage would be done. In despair, I thought, “Things can’t get any worse.”

Our garage is separated from the house by a heavy solid-wood door with an electric lock. We never use the lock, only the handle. Severe cold is hard on wildlife. I went into our garage to get cracked corn for them. Behind me I heard a little humm. The electric lock had locked me out in freezing temperatures wearing my sleeping clothes and bedroom slippers. In three-and-a-half years living here, it had never locked itself. The lock would not respond to the combination. My backup keys were inside on my car keyring. Kit had her keys in California. I had no phone. I had to take a sledgehammer and smash-in the stout door.

Strangely the episode made me smile. I realized things could be worse. That realization turned my despair into determination. In an intense eight-hour effort, I accessed the impossible pipes and unthawed them with Kit’s hair blower.

I hope to always remember, “Things can get worse.”

Drew