Boxing It Up

I spent much of the day in the wood shop and the mechanic’s shop.  I made quite a bit of progress on the locking box that fits over a desk in the mechanic’s shop, completing the box and getting it mounted to the wall.  The last detail will be a latch that will hold it up when it is in use.  Right now I am just using a prop.  I took some pictures of the nearly completed project as well as one picture that shows what I am working around: a 1966 Mustang Coupe, one of many older cars that grace this ranch.

At least this one is in good condition and is parked inside.  A little dusty, perhaps, but dry.  Many others are parked in the trees and are slowly succumbing to the weather and the undergrowth.

Deb cleaned another staff housing unit today.  This unit will be occupied with a new staff member tomorrow, so Deb was on another rush job, trying to clean a whole dwelling unit in just a few hours.  At least this one was smaller and not quite do dirty.

There may be one more house to clean tomorrow.

Lunch was more packed than usual.  Nearly a dozen volunteers from a church group are here for a few days laying floors, replacing decks, and other work.  The only time we cross paths is at lunch so not much chance to interact with any of them.  We have usually been sitting at the boys’ table where there really isn’t a lot of interaction with the boys.  I’m sure there are so many volunteers that come and go that they are just not interested in getting to know any of them.

Except Max.  Max wants to be friends with everyone.  He usually plops himself down across from us and is highly interested in our attention.  Today he was staring intently at me and asked me what I was looking at.

“I’m reading the words to ​Standing On the Promises, I told him, pointing at the song lyrics on the easel.  This led to a discussion of what standing on promises actually meant.  He may have been just trying to keep our attention, but he does think about it and wonder about it.  The discussion ended when he was reminded that he had ten minutes left to eat what was on his plate.  He has to be steered back on task.  A lot.

We took a walk this evening, walking past the building with the old fire engine and the sawmill, walking past the burn pile, and we eventually ended up by the mechanic’s shop where we noticed one door was open and the light was on.  Marty must be working late.  And he was in there, putting the finishing touches on a starter replacement job.  Marty is the resident mechanic here and will often be found here during off hours, working on one of many projects.

Marty also has his doctorate in theology and does the church services here on the ranch on Sundays.  We talked with Marty for probably an hour or more, and he covered such subjects such as the rise of Pentecostalism, dispensations, false teachings in the church, and traditional and contemporary music,  all the while making hand gestures holding the last tool he was working with in his grease-stained hands.

But he wasn’t just pontificating opinions.  His assertions were backed by Scripture and sound doctrine, something that is lacking in many modern churches.

We meet some fascinating people on these projects.  Marty is one of them.  A theologian who overhauls engines and transmissions is a rare person indeed and probably won’t be found in most typical churches or mechanic’s shops.  But the ranch?  That’s where you find them.