Power Lift

I learned many years ago that a guy could install ceiling drywall by himself. Fasten a cleat to one wall an inch or so below the ceiling level. Place one end of the sheet on that cleat, lift the other end up and then wedge a T-brace beneath it. Then… fasten that sucker in place. Voila! “Who needs to rent a drywall lift?” I congratulated myself.

There were three or eight reasons why I insisted on not renting a lift. One was to save money. Another was that I am a tightwad. A third would be that I’m as stubborn as a concrete fencepost. I hesitate to mention that it was also inconvenient to have to drive to the rental place, pick up the lift, drive back home, have to unload the lift, then reload it, drive back to the rental place and then unload the lift again. The reason I hesitate to mention that is that if all of that only counts as one more reason, I’m stuck above three and short of eight. If each part counts separately, then I’m over eight. Don’t want to exceed my own limitations, you know…

Well, folks, I had myself a bit of a conversion experience this weekend. My stepson, Jaylon, came down for the weekend with his wife, Leah. He planned to help me install drywall after they’d done some professional shear sharpening for a local styling salon. I’d calculated that using twelve-foot drywall sheets instead of eight-foot sheets would save me at least eight end joints on the finishing. Since end joints are a pain in the end, that idea seemed right attractive to me. I knew, though, there was no way we were going to be lifting twelve-foot sheets overhead and trying to hold those up with one hand while we slid T-braces into place. Besides, we only live six blocks from the rental place. Doc the Tightwad rented the drywall lift.

Boy Howdy was that the right move! Cut the sheet to desired length and shape, set it on the lift, crank it up, move it into final position, crank it up snug then start fastening. What an improvement! Saved time, energy, effort, frustration and physical pain. I thought back over the years and projects of doing it the hard way and told Jay, “That may have been the worst money I ever saved!”

I also thought about all my years of trying to live a godly life without really trusting God. I thought about the years of trying to be a Christian without relying on Christ. I also thought about the frustration of trying to be spiritual without walking in step with the Spirit. I’m pretty sure that whenever I try to operate in my own strength I fall far short of what could be accomplished through that Greater Power.

H. Arnett
2/29/16

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About Doc Arnett

Native of southwestern Kentucky currently living in Blair, Kansas, with my wife of twenty-five years, Randa. We have, between us, eight children and twenty-one grandkids. We enjoy singing, worship, remodeling and travel.
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