Introduction: Not the Retirement I Imagined
If I’m honest, retirement hasn’t started quite the way I imagined.
Like many people approaching retirement, I pictured more days shaped by what I wanted to do.
More adventures.
More leisurely mornings.
More writing.
More time enjoying this new season of life with my wife.
Instead…
I’ve spent much of the past month and a half digging trenches.
Repairing drainage.
Fixing water problems.
Making repairs.
Running to the hardware store so often that I think they should probably assign me my own parking space.
Sometimes it has felt like one long project interrupted only by the next one.
And while I’ve tried to keep a good attitude, there have certainly been moments when I’ve thought,
“Lord… surely we’re almost done now?”
Maybe you’ve experienced seasons like that too.
Not necessarily with a house.
But with life.
One challenge gives way to another.
One problem gets solved…
and another appears.
Looking for the Blessings
During this time, I’ve tried to remind myself of the obvious blessings.
I’m thankful we were able to buy this home.
I’m thankful we’re close to our children and grandchildren.
I’m thankful I have the time to work on these projects because I’m retired.
I’m thankful God has given me the health, strength, and resources to keep moving forward.
Those are all genuine blessings.
But they aren’t the blessings I want to tell you about today.
Because recently I realized…
God had buried another blessing underneath all the dirt.
Literally.
An Unexpected Helper
As I’ve mentioned before, I have two grandsons.
One recently turned two.
The other will soon celebrate his fourth birthday.
I adore both of them.
But if I’m being honest, I’ve often felt a stronger connection with the younger one.
The older grandson naturally gravitates toward his mom (my daughter) and my wife whenever they are around.
That’s perfectly normal.
He’s four.
Of course he wants his mom.
The younger one, on the other hand, has generally been content being relegated to grandpa when mom is occupied with his big brother.
So that’s simply how our relationships developed.
Or so I thought.
Grandalf’s Little Coworker
Then all these house projects came along.
One thing I’ve learned about my older grandson is that he absolutely loves having a job to do.
Whenever he sees me working outside, he comes running.
“Grandalf… can I help?” (I asked to have the boys call me “Grandalf”, with a tip of my hat to “Gandalf” from Lord of the Rings.)
My answer to him is always yes.
He’s so serious about his responsibilities that we bought him his own pair of work gloves.
He loves them.
Now…
Let’s be honest.
He isn’t exactly speeding up the projects.
In fact, if anything, they take a little longer.
But I’ve discovered something.
The projects aren’t really about the projects anymore.
They’re about us.
While I dig trenches, he asks a thousand questions.
“What does that tool do?”
“Why are you digging there?”
“Where does that pipe go?”
“Why are you doing that?”
I always take the time to try to answer his questions and explain things in ways I think he’ll understand. I love watching his little mind soak it all up.
Sometimes we even pause work altogether so we can dance to the music I have playing.
During one particularly hot afternoon, he decided his primary assignment was spraying Grandalf with water.
Oddly enough…
that turned out to be genuinely helpful.
I’ve laughed more than I expected.
Smiled more than I expected.
Connected more deeply than I expected.

The Blessing Hidden Beneath the Dirt
One afternoon it suddenly occurred to me.
If these house projects hadn’t happened…
I probably wouldn’t have spent nearly this much one-on-one time with my grandson.
God had buried a blessing inside a trial.
What I initially saw as an interruption had quietly become one of my favorite parts of retirement so far.
Would I have chosen many weeks of drainage and other household problems to get there?
Probably not.
But would I trade these afternoons with my little coworker now?
Not a chance.
I Wonder…
That experience has made me wonder something.
I wonder how many blessings God buries inside our hardships.
I don’t pretend to know why He does it.
Perhaps it’s because blessings discovered unexpectedly become treasures.
Perhaps it’s because hardship slows us down enough to notice what we would otherwise overlook.
Perhaps it’s because He’s teaching us to keep looking for His goodness, even when life feels heavy.
Whatever the reason…
I’m beginning to suspect that some of God’s sweetest gifts are hidden beneath piles of frustration.
Looking More Carefully
James wrote:
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds…”
For years, that verse puzzled me.
How can we possibly rejoice in trials?
Maybe part of the answer is this:
Because we never know what God is growing…
or giving…
or revealing…
beneath them.
Sometimes the blessing isn’t the end of the trial.
Sometimes it’s what we discover while walking through it.
A Final Encouragement
I’m still looking forward to the day when all these projects are finally behind us.
I’m sure I’ll enjoy our home even more then.
But I also hope I never forget what these projects gave me.
A little boy in work gloves.
A thousand curious questions.
A few impromptu dances.
Some unexpected laughs.
And a friendship with my grandson that’s deeper today than it was just a few months ago.
That was a blessing I never would have found…
if God hadn’t buried it beneath a pile of dirt.
A Question to Sit With
What blessing might God have buried inside the very challenge I’ve been asking Him to remove?

















