Preparing our trailer spot

THE ITTY BITTY CAT THAT COULD
“Now listen you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to this city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money. Why you do not even know what will happen tomorrow! What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while then vanishes.” James 4:13-14

Do I try to make things fit into my plans? Am I so preoccupied with planning that I can’t hear God’s voice? Does my planning become controlling?

Oh yeah, sometimes. I used to be terrible about this. I was a slave to my plans. Once plans were laid that was it, I didn’t want them to waver or change an inch. If they did I was one upset puppy!

Did I rejoice in my plans? I did rely on them. I left God out, but my plans were center stage. Oh, I would ask God to bless my plans. “This is how it needs to go, Lord, please make it work.”

I had a huge learning curve on this. What I mean is, it was a long slow turn till I changed, even a little, with this one. One of my first and most impressionable lessons was when Jim, my late husband, and I moved our single wide house trailer to my dad’s property in Plains Montana.

It was going to be an easy move. Nothing like the move of 300 miles or so from Belgrade Montana to Plains where our 14X70 foot home was pulled up the mountain on a windy, narrow road through snow-laden trees and left in the middle of the county road, blocking the school bus and other rigs because the professional mover could not or would not back it into the tiny, slippery space between the pines. Nothing like running with a friend to round up a caterpillar a couple of miles away to chug over and push the trailer house, with the blade, no less, off the road and back into the space. No nothing like that. Only a few miles across the valley and up into gentle hills to a leveled out large space that we had prepared on my dad’s property. This move three years later would be an easy one. After all we had it all planned out carefully.

This is how it would go–first we would prepare the inside of the trailer to move, packing all breakables, stabilizing anything that might move, wall hangings would be put on the floor, and taping all cupboards closed. The skirting would be taken off, all pipes, drains and electrical hookups would be unhooked. The professional mover would simply hook up, pull it out of the spot onto the paved county road, easy as pie, pull it across the valley, through Plains, and up the wide county road to Dads driveway. The mover had accessed the driveway and though it was a bit of a climb he said it would be no problem, his truck was powerful and had 4-wheel drive so would get traction on the gavel. It was summer, not winter, no slick roads, the spot was large, we could turn the trailer around so the living room windows would face the view of the valley, we had a mover who was used to mountain roads and knew where he was going, piece of cake, we had our bases covered. Plans were laid. There would be no deviating from them.

We prayed all would go smooth and as planned. My mom prayed, I’m not sure what exactly she prayed but she always prayed. She told me the day before the move, “Don’t worry, Wendy, I’m praying. It will be fine.”

Everything went as planned and as smooth as a puppies tummy, at first. I can’t say I didn’t worry and I was praying like crazy when I watched the tail end of my home going up that steep driveway. My heart was indeed in my throat when the semi-truck wheels spun in the gravel and the long trailer slid back a ways.
“Is he going to make it?” Stephen, in the car beside me, asked.
“Oh yeah,” I said when the big tires caught and dug in to pull the heavy trailer up the steep incline, “he said it was a piece of cake.”

On up the driveway he crawled, but then the trailer in front of us stopped. And didn’t go on. When the driver saw the even steeper incline ahead of him, a way that had been recently bladed and cleared through the timber with a cat since the last turn in the existing drive was too tight, he shook his head. There was no way, he said, that his truck could pull that trailer up that steep incline over the soft dirt. He just couldn’t do it. So we blocked and secured the trailer on the relatively level part of the driveway. He unhooked his powerful, 4-wheel drive semi-truck and drove around the circle drive Dad had in front of his house and left.

Jim, Stephen and I just stood there staring dumbfounded at our home, a hundred and fifty yards from where it was supposed to be, and my dad shook his head.
“Guess you could just leave it there,” he said.

Mom? She just prayed. Jim said we’d figure something out, but it was getting dark so we would sleep there for the night.

Funny thing waking up in the morning in your house with different scenery out your window. Funnier still if it’s scenery half way up your driveway. Better than semi-trucks out your window I guess. When we moved the trailer from Belgrade to Plains we stayed the night in Missoula. Not having much money the three of us slept in the trailer on our own beds in a truck stop, sandwiched between semi-trucks hauling who knows what. It was the middle of winter and we had no heat except for the wood stove, so we stoked up a fire. No problem, right, so what if a bit of smoke went out the chimney. The next morning I peeked out the blinds and saw a gas truck right beside us. So glad that it was just smoke going out the chimney!

So anyway the first order of the day was to find someone to move our house on up to the spot we had taken such care and time to prepare. Just a little wrinkle in our plans. I didn’t like it, was a bit stressed, but Jim kept saying we would figure something out. Someone, somewhere would be able to get the trailer up that hill. Mom said she was praying. I said that’s good. And ran around like a chicken with my head cut off when a friend brought up a small cat and said, he could pull that trailer up the hill, no problem!

The itty bitty cat that could, puffed and smoked, and chugged, and dug it’s tracks and moved the trailer—-not an inch. The problem was, our friend said, the cat’s hitch wasn’t high enough to lift the trailer frame off the ground, so the brave little cat was trying to drag the big heavy trailer up that hill. So the cat that couldn’t left, but we were not defeated.

We did, however, stay another night on the driveway. By then our plans had all flown out the window and we were flying by the seat of our pants. So to speak. More like dragging in the dirt. Mom was still praying and I was beginning to join her in earnest.
“Lord, please get our home up where it belongs. I really don’t care how You do it. Just, please, do it. Cuz we can’t.”

So we found another friend with an old boom truck with a winch in the back that could lift the hitch high enough to get the front of the trailer off the ground. This would work! They hooked the hitch of the trailer to the boom hook and hoisted away. Bang! The trailer fell off the hook and crashed to the ground.

I covered my mouth so I wouldn’t yell something I shouldn’t. They secured it better and tried again. This time it held, but the old boom truck that was determined, roared and spun and pulled and moved the trailer a few feet. The steep incline loomed ahead and the little truck lurched to a halt. Our friend said maybe if he got a run at the hill he might make it.
“Might!” I squeaked. “What happens if you don’t?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Who knew. No one had ever tried pulling a heavy (how much do they weigh?) 70 foot house trailer up a 75 percent grade with a small, older model boom truck before.
“Oh God! This was NOT IN THE PLANS!” I silently cried, “What do we do?”
Dad just shook his head. Mom was still praying.

The guys came up with the idea to get the itty bitty cat back to kinda help push the trailer while the old boom truck pulled. Oh boy, now THAT sounded like a good plan!

So one more night, what was that, three? was spent on the driveway. The cat still hadn’t shown up (he took off like a shot when I let him out the first night) the dog was beginning to adjust to the new place and Stephen caught the bus at the new stop that morning. Mom said she was praying. Jim, who missed a day falling trees, did some sweet talking to our friend with the cat (-a-pillar) and I was beseeching my Lord on my knees. “Oh God we need You. Please, please help us! Lift that trailer up and put it where You want it to be.”

The old boom truck arrived, the itty bitty cat came, today was the day. It was do or die. Get it up to the spot or live in the driveway.

The first order of things was to have the cat push the trailer back down the driveway a few feet so the boom truck could get a run at the hill. So the itty bitty cat that could, chugged and smoked and dug it’s tracks in and pushed the trailer ten feet or so down the hill. Yea! The cat that could DID!

Then they hooked the old boom truck, that was determined, to the trailer hitch being careful NOT to drop it this time, and the cat was positioned behind the trailer with blade against the frame. Now the trick, the truck driver said, was for the little cat to keep up with the trailer since he was going to goose the old truck as fast as it would go to get up that darn hill!

Oh my gosh! I asked Jim if this was a good idea and he asked me if I had a better one. Pray! I said. He agreed. Mom was praying. “Wendy!” She yelled as I stood there with my hands covering my face. “Pray!”

Oh yeah, by this time I was praying. Forget the plans, forget our own self sufficiency, forget trusting in trucks and cats and preparation. Forget all of that! It was God, our Heavenly Father and only God who could keep my home from crashing into the trees! And put it somewhere. Anywhere fairly level, would do!

Well the ancient boom truck roared. I had to look. Tires spun, gravel flew, the trailer jerked forward. The truck that was determined flew up the hill, pulling that big ole trailer behind.

The itty bitty cat that could, well it chugged and smoked and dug it’s tracks in, but it couldn’t keep up. The old truck that was determined, roared and spun and tried it’s best, but it’s best was not enough. Half way up the hill it died. Now the cat that could was supposed to be pushing, but it was fifty feet behind.

Seventy feet of heavy house trailer rolled backwards down that steep incline. Right at the itty bitty cat. And wow did that cat look little! The friend on the cat, whose eyes were as big as saucers, envisioned the cat busting right through the back wall of the trailer. But he was good. He adjusted the blade just right. The trailer hit with a bang and a great shudder, but the blade was on the frame and it held. The itty bitty cat that could did!

Or was that God who could? Was it God who adjusted that blade just right? I’ll give you a good ole, North Dakota “You betcha!” for that! There were angels standing back there who caught that trailer with their hands. No doubt!

The old boom truck roared and spun and pulled, the itty bitty cat chugged and smoked and dug and up the hill they went. Together! I could swear I saw those angels pushing that little cat and pulling the old truck. Right to the top they went. Right to the level spot we had prepared so carefully. And stopped.

“Praise the Lord!” Mom yelled over the roar and the chug! The friend on the cat pumped his fists and pointed to the sky and the truck driver honked his horn. Dad nodded his head and grinned. I ran up that hill and danced around my home, yelling, “Thank you Jesus!”

Jim stood still and bowed his head.

“Is that good enough?” the truck driver asked. We all looked. The back of the trailer was hanging a bit over the hill, but the tires were on level ground. It wasn’t turned the way we planned, but it was there! Good view of the trees from the living room window and a view of the valley out the bedroom.

“Good enough.” Jim said. And that was that. Except it’s not the end of the story.

A few weeks later the power company came out to hook up the electricity. Things move a bit slow in Plains Montana, but we were fine with an outhouse, packing water and using lanterns. Been there done that before. The propane was hooked up for the stove so we could cook.

That night after the power was hooked up we turned on the lights in the living room and the lights in the kitchen went on too. In fact all the lights in the trailer went on. Even when the switches were off the lights glowed softly. Weird, strange. Jim went out to check the box. Oh I might add it rained after we got the trailer moved so the ground was wet. When Jim reached up to open the door on the box, he had a strong feeling not to touch it. So strong, he dropped his arm.

He called a friend who was a retired electrician and he came out and checked the power coming into the house. I can’t remember the numbers but it was way more power, like double, running through the house then it should be. He told us not to touch anything and we called the power company who came right out and turned off the power. Come to find out they had hooked it up wrong to the box. They said if Jim would have touched that box he would have been fried, especially with the wet ground.

I realized every last thing we planned, that I had counted on happening, did not happen. Not the way I figured it would. That’s when I knew my plans are nothing. I am just a vapor that is here and gone. I am nothing. God is everything!

He protected my home. He kept my husband from harm. He orchestrated every crazy move, every winding turn. My Heavenly Father, the Creator, moved that trailer, not me, not my plans, but His hands carried it and set it in place, backwards yes, but there nevertheless.

Do I rejoice in my presumptions? Sometimes still, but after more lessons, not so much. Do I trust my plans? Not on your life! I have found my plans mean very little. It is not wrong to plan. Planning is necessary, planning is natural, planning is okay.

“The preparations of the heart belong to a man.” Preparations, plans, dreams, hopes belong in my heart, they are normal.

“But the answer of the tongue is from the Lord.” I can plan but the Lord has the answers. He knows the way I need to go.

“Roll your works onto the Lord and Your thoughts will be established.” Pr. 16:1-3 Give Him my plans, my doings, my life and my thoughts will be made steady, inline, not wavering. The Amplified Bible says, “He will cause your thoughts to be agreeable to His will.”

Planning is okay but I need to always put God in the plan. Plan. Roll it on Him. Leave it. Know He is God.

“Instead you ought to say, ‘If it is the Lord’s will we will live and do this or that.’ As it is you boast in your presumptions and your self-conceit. All such boasting is wrong.”
King James says, “But now ye rejoice in your boastings. Such rejoicing is evil.” James 4:15-16

Lord help me not to rejoice in my plans, not to trust my presumptions but to always trust You and You alone.

Mom and Stephen at Mom and Dad’s spot

Moving our trailer

View of Mt. Baldy from the property