Monday was Terence’s brithday. By tradition we serve waffles, with a candle in the Birthday Boy’s. For some reason we didn’t. Change.

Tuesday Terence and Becky moved out of our house to an apartment north of Dallas. Two empty rooms in our house, two empty parking places in the driveway. We also moved out most of Rebecca’s furniture to the house where she and Joel will live. Change.

Wednesday we moved Rebecca’s piano. Is it the music leaving our house, or just the tune we’re used to? Change.

Thursday Sherry packed up the sewing machine and sergers. The wedding sewing is done. We need the table space for Friday’s rehearsal dinner. I planted flowers in the front of the house. Change.

It’s Friday, and the house is still littered with decorations for the wedding and reception. By afternoon they will be gone, replaced by the programs still churning off the computer. Change.

Saturday will come, God willing. At 2:00 p.m., our littlest daughter will have a new name, a new identity. Change.

Sunday will come, God willing. We will thank Him that He changes us — but that He never changes.

It sounds so simple. Why is change so hard?

As we think about fixing up our house to sell, repairs are uppermost in my mind. (Well, right behind Rebecca’s wedding in two weeks.) So Friday I was stunned to discover that our roof is leaking. I thought I’d fixed it last fall. This meant urgently finding a pot to catch the dripping water. I am sad.

Later Friday I was further stunned to find our detached carport roof is leaking. This meant frantically moving and repacking some boxes that were sitting there in the water. I am sad.

“When it rains it pours” is a common line that Morton Salt adopted as a slogan many years ago. It means their salt pours freely, even in high humidity (when salt tends to cling together and not pour). Their salt stands the test.

Today I’m calling the insurance company and perhaps a roofing company. I mean, how can you sell a house with two leaky roofs?

Did I mention that we also need to replace the fence? However, I spoke this morning with a dear friend who is arranging to come up and spearhead an effort to make fence-replacement a home project. My pocketbook and demeanor thank him.

“When it rains it pours.” From a Morton Salt perspective, that’s a good thing. It demonstrates our best qualities.

And when the storm clears, perhaps it even brings out our friends to be our rainbows — God’s promise that He will not overflood us beyond our capacities to survive by crying out to Him. I am happy.