Project Time: Work, Family, and What Carries On

More Get the King Out of the Garden

Once my wife and I were married and my in-laws discovered my ability to repair and remodel, I became their go-to guy—often in place of my brothers-in-law. We visited each other most weeks, a pattern that lasted right up until their deaths. My brother-in-law was capable enough, but he needed some encouragement.

Fixing sink faucets, crawling into the attic above the porch to track down a leak, replacing stairway carpet or handrails—these were common requests. It didn’t help that I was often the one who noticed and mentioned what needed attention, so in a way I brought it on myself. Before long, it became expected.

After retirement, that same brother-in-law would come out with my wife’s parents, and I’d put him to work. He ended up involved in most of the projects we’ve done over the years. By then, my wife’s father wasn’t able to participate physically, but he was always amazed at how quickly we could tear out a wall or add onto a structure. He even helped me pour yards and yards of concrete when we used a hand mixer for our barn addition and feed lot.

My wife’s mother loved sitting on our deck, but mosquitoes made it miserable. So we built a screened-in porch, which over time morphed into something close to a four-season room. If it hadn’t been for her, I doubt we ever would have built it.

He helped when we put a metal roof on the house. He helped with the cleanup when we took the barn down. Over time, he genuinely began to enjoy coming out and lending a hand. He’s not able to work as he used to now—he had a heart attack last year and spent months here recovering. These days, when we talk on the phone, he almost always asks if I have any projects on the docket.

We were very close to my wife’s family. They weren’t just in-laws; they were our best friends. We even had another house on our farm up the road that we let her parents use as a second home for a couple of years. We didn’t charge them anything, and in return, they made a few updates themselves.

Family can be a real blessing when no one insists on being the center of everything—when people simply give of themselves. Giving has a way of returning, often in a much more amplified form. My wife’s parents are gone now, but her brother still lives in the family home. The memories remain, along with a faint sense of emptiness when we visit—much like walking through my uncle’s farm after he moved to town.

One thing I’ve learned is that family truly is a blessing when everyone stays on the same page. I know many who haven’t had that experience, where division crept in over an offense, real or imagined. In an earlier piece, I wrote about that pesky ego we’re all tasked with keeping in check. Ego exists to protect us, but when it takes control, it leads to division—and blessings like these quietly move out of reach.

The principle of the Kingdom of God is forgiveness. It isn’t optional; it’s a test of entry. “Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

Now I find myself stepping into the role my father-in-law once filled, helping my oldest daughter’s husband. He calls when he needs guidance on his projects. I help where I can and leave the heavy work to him. He’s a quick learner. I hope that when my time comes to step aside, he’ll have learned enough to keep this going—generation to generation.