Abounding Grace
Dreams are powerful things – hopes, aspirations, goals – whatever you want to call them.
I grew up in the country, among the rolling hills, trees and lakes in Michigan. In our family we simply refer to that time as “the farm“. My parents weren’t farmers, although we had an epic garden! After growing up and moving away, there has always been a part of my soul that longs for the whispers of the great white pine outside my bedroom window, the smell of freshly mown hay, the crickets singing in the fall…seeing the woods come alive in the spring…
Sometimes suburbia wears me out. My dreams lead to open spaces.
Enter “Haven”, a beautiful piece of property perched on a bluff overlooking the Brazos River. My “land family” (Brad & Teffny) and I closed on the property in June. I’ve written on this before, so I won’t rehash the whole miracle of us actually being awarded that particular plot. You can read it here, if you want.
The next hurdle involved getting any sort of infrastructure to the property. Electricity is slated for sometime in 2022. And of course, we need a well.
A couple of months ago Brad was walking the property with a well driller, a highly respected and honest man. He was discouraged. He told Brad he didn’t believe there was any water anywhere on property. He recommended we work with a hydro-geologist and petroleum people to do testing. While expensive, it would be more affordable than us punching a bunch of non-productive holes in the ground.
It was sobering. So, I started to pray…and so did they. This was not the news we wanted to hear. Not at all.
Fast forward to yesterday, 11/19/21. A team of well drillers arrived. Brad wasn’t even aware he was on the list for this other company. Surprise! They had hit water a few plots away, at #207. The water was good and running strong. They felt confident we would hit water.
Those of you who know me will understand my impatience to be at Haven during this momentous activity. I could barely sit at my desk and concentrate on my work. I swear the clock moved as slowly as rush hour traffic. Actually, God knew exactly what He was doing by having me not on site. I would have been a mess as things unfolded.
200 feet…nothing. Just gravel spewing up from the drill. Then, they were at 220. They had hoped to hit sand. The strata was different than the well at #207. 300 feet and still nothing…
Oh yeah, I bowed my head at my desk. Brad texted us saying, “Now would be a good time to pray.” I didn’t need a second invitation.
330 feet and counting. Suddenly they hit sand. They kept going. Finally at 440 feet – there is was! Water starting coming through the pipe. Brad sent a video. Water was coming out about 20 gallons per minute. Tears and joy mingled at my desk.
They went all the way to 480 feet – and the water started gushing. GUSHING! Clear, clean, beautiful.
It is a gift of God.
Also, 480 feet doesn’t require additional expensive things Texas requires for deep wells.
Yes, it is a gift of God – a tangible symbol of His love and provision. I feel like I have been kissed by Him. My Thanksgiving is going to last a long time!
– RG
