There are certain things I like to do a certain way. The normal way. But life doesn’t always provide the familiar things we’ve become dependent upon. Sometimes adjustments are necessary. Such was the case for a certain story teller I heard earlier. He was describing his experience with college dorm conditions that are not to be envied.
The poor guy was just trying to get ready in the morning and a narrow rectangle (more narrow than usual) was an obstacle to carrying out his familiar morning ritual. If only he had more room to work with. If only he could have stretched his elbows without hitting the sides of his awkward container. Maybe if he could just have lifted his knee to waist level without hitting his rear on the wall behind him.
But, alas, his ability to release his imagination was stymied by the inconvenient time pressure posed by the scheduled breakfast in ten minutes. There were only so many options and most of them were executed before his determination dissolved in disgust. Truly, there was just no way he could get the job done properly. The constraints on him were just too impossible. He searched his chest but was not surprised to find a particular swirling initial absent.
These kind of things required training–if a not unique wealth of genius–and that he did not have. When he arrived there had been no warning, no fine print to indicate that the facilities here were designed for an individual of high caliber intelligence.
So, it was with regret concerning his absentee sessions of gymnastic-contortions-research that he acknowledged his failure concerning the experiment. He knew not whether others could boast a better response to such an unnatural habitat, but one benefit he could console himself by. Because of his trying ordeal he would forever be grateful for the wonders of un-closeted indoor plumbing that is fully equipped to serve the average, modern human being.
If you can identify with our everyday hero in his extraordinary struggles, please share your own example of trying to figure out how to do something common a new way when the old way was made impossible.
At Home with God 
5 responses to “A funky alteration made necessary by small spaces”
On one particularly hot day at summer camp, I was walking away from the snack bar when our director asked if I’d scope out other end of campus for stray campers, as a tornado warning had just been issued. There weren’t any kids on the other end, so I only had myself to protect when the dirt road ahead of me “lifted” into my face!
As I led my soaked body into our underground shelter, kids began to cry and we lost our electricity. With flashlights and positive attitudes, we sang some goofy songs and had our basement campfire: eighty kids and twelve staff hoverIng around a single floodlight.
The next morning, we were still without power, and the counselors got up early to formulate a plan. Our camp cook set a table outside the dormitories with handwashing bins and some metal bowls. The kids were prompted to wash up and joyfully “spittooned” their toothpaste into the bowls.
We went to a water park, the sand dunes, and a chocolate factory, but each returning kid would mention the storm and brushing their teeth for years to come. 🙂
Gross! (Sorry, that was my first response to the toothpaste part.) I love how the crazy parts of our lives that seem such a serious predicament to us at the time end up being our best stories. Thanks for sharing this one. 🙂
Yeah… pretty sure most of the girls weren’t as crazy about it as the boys, but it left a lasting impression either way.
It’s trying to keep my routine as normal as possible and planning for the unplanned that prompts me to pack so much when going away from home. That said, the unexpected hit us at home the other day. When I was sick and wheeled away to the ER, my husband had to tell the firemen how to get him dressed and into his chair. It’d been so long since he’d had to consciously think through his routine (and of course he was frazzled worrying about me). He managed –without bandages covering potential pressure points, without his pants pulled up just so, without the wheel guard, almost without matching socks… His discomfort was small potatoes compared to seeing me smile as we left the ER, but he’s ever more grateful for how smooth I make his life.
I wonder if Adam ever wondered how he got on without Eve once she came into his life. Praise God for helpmates. =)
Oh, that’s beautiful! I hope you’re okay. And I’m so glad you can serve him like that. I pray God blesses your marriage extravagantly. 🙂