Atop a refuge...

Fear conquered me today.  Whilst you might think that normal, I was surprised.

The plan was to pop out the attic window and slap some caulk on the two front corners of the gutter.  They are both leaking.  Now that I have beautiful water drainage from my new gutter extensions, I wanted to finish off my water-in-the-basement-channels home maintenance project.

[Sorry, I distracted myself there with that video.]

When I peered out the window, I was surprised to see just how little maneuvering room there was between the window and the gutter—a mere five tiles.  I shimmied out the window and then immediately scampered back inside.  I tried again and got just past the window onto the larger portion of the roof.  It is really, really, really steep.  I scurried back inside.  I tried to visualize myself applying the caulk, but I cannot visualize anything.  That was a futile bit of procrastination.  My plan then became to get out the window, roll on to my stomach, and inch my way to the corner.  I got out the window, rotated to my hands and knees, and tried really hard to lie down on my stomach.  I couldn't.  I am too chicken, I suppose.

Now, perhaps you are thinking that is just being sensible.  But you do not know that roofs are my friends.  They are.  When I was young, I would take a book and climb up on the roof as refuge from the chaos drugs and alcohol can bring to a home.  I loved the quiet and solitude and safety of the roof.

The airing porch has no railing.  When I bought the house, I insured it with the company who covered my last home.  A few weeks after I arrived, an inspector came round, saw the lack of railing, and canceled my policy.  My policy was canceled even though the mortgage company required that I have the door to the airing porch screwed shut.  Locks don't seem to be important.  So, the company that holds my auto policy agreed to cover the house.  The agent knew the area and knew many homes had airing porches.  All was fine.  Now, not so much.

Firewood Man came over to sow grass seed into the dirt from the trenches he had to dig for the gutter pipe extensions since tomorrow starts a long spate of rain.  He also went out onto the airing porch to measure for a railing.  Whilst he's willing to build a nice one, I am opting for the most economical, plain, black metal railing.

Somewhere along the way, someone switched it from a flat roof to a pitched one.  It is a gentle pitch, but it is also shingled.  So, really the porch isn't meant to be used as a porch now.  I would, however, like to be able to be out there with Amos, high above everything else.  I would really like to figure out a way to have a glider rocking bench (such as this one) set leveled on the porch near the house.  Today, Tim and I spent over an hour, sitting with our backs to the house, savoring the peace of being up there.  Or, perhaps, I did the savoring and Tim did the wishing a railing was already installed.

I suppose I mention this because I really am surprised how frightened I was trying to get on the second story roof.  And, truthfully, I was surprised at the peace and sense of safety I felt sitting on the airing porch.  It was as if I were thirteen again, climbing up the fence, traversing the garage roof, and on atop the house.  My secret hiding place.  My refuge.

Did you know that 29 of the psalms (19%) specifically speak of or refer to refuge, such as with Psalm 27 I hid in yesterday:


For in the day of trouble He will conceal me in His tabernacle; 
In the secret place of His tent He will hide me; 


Six more of them speak of being lifted up, lifted up to safety, by the Lord.  Maybe a rooftop is not such an odd refuge.

A segment of Psalm 91 is another one of the African praise songs I learned.  But, really, the whole thing is wonderful, is soothing, is perfect for me.


He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
Will abide in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say to the LORD, "My refuge and my fortress,
My God, in whom I trust!"
For it is He who delivers you from the snare of the trapper
And from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with His pinions,
And under His wings you may seek refuge;
His faithfulness is a shield and bulwark.

You will not be afraid of the terror by night,
Or of the arrow that flies by day;
Of the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
Or of the destruction that lays waste at noon.
A thousand may fall at your side
And ten thousand at your right hand,
But it shall not approach you.
You will only look on with your eyes
And see the recompense of the wicked.

For you have made the LORD, my refuge,
Even the Most High, your dwelling place.
No evil will befall you,
Nor will any plague come near your tent.

For He will give His angels charge concerning you,
To guard you in all your ways.
They will bear you up in their hands,
That you do not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread upon the lion and cobra,
The young lion and the serpent you will trample down.

"Because he has loved Me, therefore I will deliver him;
I will set him securely on high, because he has known My name.
"He will call upon Me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble;
I will rescue him and honor him.
"With a long life I will satisfy him
And let him see My salvation."
~Psalm 91 (NASB 1977)


I very much am looking forward to that railing.  I could almost thank the insurance company for making it a requirement.  Too bad I cannot get them to make a seat up there a requirement, too.  Peace—even that of being up on a roof—is a rare commodity for me.  I would like more of it.

The pair of robins who spent the winter with me came and sat on the power line watching me.  Their nest is just below the right corner of the airing porch, where the gutter pipe curves down beneath the roof to run down the side of the porch.  The funny thing is ... a pair of house finches have absconded the nest, working for a while now making it the right size for their tiny bodies.  The robins just watch them.

All God's creatures need refuge, eh?


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!