You can’t take it with you.

Well, the old frig finally gave up the ghost.  It was, after all, 25 years old, which might make some of my contemporary homemakers gasp with awe.  Bob really came through yet again—

I had noticed the night before that things were a little squishy in the freezer, cold, but not hard like normal.   Checking the temp, it looked like it had been accidentally turned down, just a little, and besides, sometimes the door doesn’t shut all the way unless I push on it, so okay.  Done.  Went to bed.

Next morning, almost time to head out the door, I go to make our daily smoothies to take to our offices and notice that things are not just squishy, but thawing out!  Uh-oh. Thankfully, at this writing, my husband’s work schedule is more flexible than mine, and he was able to take measurements and make all the necessary decisions and contacts (including the contractor who had to come out and pull down some cabinets in my very small kitchen so the new appliance would fit!)

I came home to a new refrigerator, not exactly what I wanted, but totally what we needed!  My frozen food is much happier.  This also gave me hope that perhaps, PERHAPS, I could bump up the schedule for the the plans to upgrade (read: gut and remodel) our old kitchen.  This has been a bit of an ongoing disagreement in our household, finances being what they are in a marriage.  Like the frig, the oven, which was original equipment when we moved in (25 years ago), no longer fully closes either without a good shove, and will also need some hacking and cracking of the existing woodwork to replace it. 

So my thoughts of a “new kitchen” have been increasingly pushing their way into the frontal lobe of my traditional feminine brain.  It’s an investment, right?

Here’s the rub:

“Yet true godliness with contentment is itself great wealth.  After all, we brought nothing with us when we came into the world, and we can’t take anything with us when we leave it.  So if we have enough food and clothing, let us be content.”

Right now, I’m sitting on my patio in the quiet of a beautiful autumn morning, surrounded by a carpet of sycamore leaves with my big black dog snuggled amongst them.  My brother-in-law’s old army field jacket and my pot of hot tea helps keep me warm out here while I type on a nice MAC. 

And my frozen food is frozen.  I guess the kitchen can wait a while.

(Enjoy this rendition from the iconic voice of James Earl Jones, reciting the prayer from one of my FAVORITE movies, You Can’t Take It With You!)

1 Tim 6: 6-8  Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.