Stinky Water, Water Everywhere

Well . . .

The water in the basement has not drained the way we had hoped.  While it was not above the flooring that hubby just installed over spring break, it was under it.  Just sitting there.  Stewing.  It was almost as if you could hear all the little mold spores excitedly rubbing their germy hands together in anticipation of their baby boom.  So, despite the fact that I loved, loved, loved the new flooring Paul installed, we did the only thing that we could do.

We ripped up the floor.

Good news:  We have thwarted the mold.

Bad news:  We still don't know why we have water (besides the obvious rain and rain and rain). Our sump pump is working, so, we are at a loss for explanation.

Today, when I hopped downstairs to run my morning load of laundry, I forgot that we had pulled up the floor last night.  It was such a shock to my senses to see all of that grey, concrete ugliness.  The sight overtook me, and  I teared up immediately.

Then, I was overcome with guilt.

People I know (and people I don't for that matter) are dealing with so much more pressing issues.  I know friends that are out of work, friends that are fighting terminal illness, and friends that are struggling in their marriage.  Important, important stuff.  And, here I am crying about a floor.  Trivial, material stuff.  In the course of my lifetime, this is not going to matter.  

But, I am still so sad that all of our hard work is gone, and that we are going to have to start over.

God?

A little perspective is in order for me.  

Please?

That and maybe a fudge brownie.