Hear ye! Hear Ye! The Princes are now sleeping on a king!! On Tuesday, Karla and I put together a new king bed, box springs and mattress. This was no small accomplishment given our ancient history.  As we were gathering the 107 pieces to assemble the aforementioned king size bed my mind went back to two previous occasions and shuddered:

The Great Entertainment Center Fiasco of 1988. As newlyweds, we had decided to purchase an entertainment center to hold our wedding gifted TV and VCR. It was mass produced of questionable quality, pressed wood, and assembly required. Sadly, the photo on the front of the box did not match the assembly instructions on the inside of the box; neither did the number of screws match the number of holes to place such screws; and the phrase “some assembly required” should have been replace with “mechanical engineering degree from MIT required.” All of which produced our first post-wedding day spat. 

The Wallpaper Debacle of 1990. The parsonage for the Bad Axe Church of the Nazarene was a curious abode. The most interesting feature was a six-foot underground hallway connecting the church building and parsonage. This hallway also meant the parsonage basement was the church fellowship hall and the parsonage first floor, half bath restroom often served as the restroom facility for the church’s fellowship times. With such usage, Karla decided the restroom needed a wallpaper upgrade. The tiny little restroom (think: phone booth size) was more crooked than anyone in Washington. In other words, the project was small but tricky. The job consisted of baptizing the wallpaper in the upstairs bathtub, then delivering it to the main floor restroom (without dripping glue on the green and gold circa 1964 shag carpet). As the duly appointed wallpaper runner in this process, I was rarely successful. The wallpaper was either too wet, too dry or had ripped in transit. We learned this important fact that day: Wallpaper projects account for 68% of divorces in America (That’s a number I just made up). Thankfully, our marriage survived the Bad Axe restroom wallpapering project of 1990.  

From those two projects early in our marriage, we learned to stick to the things we know best. Karla handles small home improvement projects. I preach. We’ve kept this rule, until the 107 Piece King Bed Construction Project of 2021.

We laid out 106 of the 107 pieces (one washer was a no show). We assembled the necessary tools: a provided Allen wrench and another thing-a-ma-bob (sorry for the technical jargon). We took a deep breath and began. What happened next might be considered a miracle on par with the splitting of the Red Sea. There were no disagreements. No tears. No items thrown in disgust. The bed, box springs (no assembly required) and rolled up king size mattress, which came in a tiny box, and exploded into king size following a few snips of the plastic wrap, were all in place. Easy Peasy.

I did not sleep on the couch (neither because the project was incomplete nor by upsetting my bride with my handy man ineptitude). Instead, we slept in our new Prince worthy king-sized bed. 

The 107 (technically 106) piece King-size Bed Project of 2021 proves:

1). Karla has learned great patience during our soon-to-be-celebrated 33-years of marriage.

2). Rob has learned his best attributes are encourager and final bolt tightener. 

3). God still work miracles.

I can’t say with certainty that there was divine intervention in our bed assembly project, but I am praying for far greater miracles in your homes. This last year has been difficult on our families and marriages. But know this: God loves you. God loves everyone under your roof too. God still works miracles. It doesn’t take 107 pieces (106 technically) to figure that out.