We had just moved out of a big house where we raised four children--into a small house.  It needed many repairs.  There had been a housing boom and it was the only thing available in the entire town of Pryor at the time.  I ripped sheetrock out, hired a man and replaced rotted floor joists, pulled out the kitchen, added a second bath and finally got it livable.  

We were both driving back and forth to Miami to work, (110 miles round trip every day) so I painted and carpeted one of the bedrooms for us to live in while all of this was going on.  When it was finished, it was really cute.  

But when Ken found out he was ill, he decided he wanted me to design and build a something new.  Ken was worried there would be more redo and was worried that  the house I had just redone was going to have more problems.

He could see the writing on the wall with his health--and wanted me to have "new."  So I drew the plans up and had it built.  And being the mover that I am, I've moved 27 times, I packed everything up, labeled the boxes, and prepared to call the moving company.

But the day of the move, our Sunday church class showed up. Sonya Bell drove up in a rental truck; twenty others in pickups and SUV's.  They brought breakfast and a coffee maker, divided up the rooms, the guys used a dolly for the washer, dryer and fridge--and the house was empty in less than an hour.

By the time Ken and I got to the new house, all of the boxes were in the right rooms.  And Kathy Mitchell had  lunch prepared for everyone at her house.  Sometimes something happens in  life that is so special that your heart is overwhelmed.  That was one of those times.  Awesome people, God's people, a gift to Ken and myself.  Christian servants.  I'll never forget it.