For every house is built by someone, but God is the builder of everything.—Hebrews 3:4 (NIV)

When we first bought our house years ago, my sister, Maria, stood on the side porch and said, “This little porch would be brilliant screened-in. You could have your morning coffee here and watch the sun rise.” 

All these years later, her idea is finally unfolding. My husband begins work, slowly and methodically measuring and figuring out angles. The house is old and anything but level and square, so if you want to make things look right you have to work with the imperfections. 

On the edge of the porch foundation is the cornerstone where someone over a century ago chiseled in the date 1867. I have researched the history of the house going back deed by deed. The property has only had five owners in its long existence. It was a fruit farm for a while, and some of the ancient apple trees are still in the yard, gnarled and old, bearing fruit that is hard and sour, but the deer eat it anyway. 

When the last of the screen is nailed in place, the final white paint completed on the framework, and the new, fresh coat of paint on the floor no longer sticky, I bring out the wicker chairs inherited from a beloved friend. 

The next morning, I wake up early before everyone else, go out on the porch, and sip my coffee just as first light peeks over the treetops in rays of glorious light. 

“Brilliant!”