Who Wouldn’t Want a Pole in Her Bedroom?

And, no, I’m not a firefighter

When we left for vacation, a new floor-to-ceiling pole stood near the foot of our bed.

Should I try to explain its presence to our son who would be housesitting?

Or hope he wouldn’t notice it?

“That pole in our bedroom,” I finally confessed upon our return, “it’s not as sexy as it looks.”

“I figured as much when I saw how rough the wood was,” the 31-year-old responded.

“Splinters,” we both said together.

Indeed.

Why installed a pole

The pole had been a last-minute, necessary addition to our bedroom decor when I noticed the growing crack in our bedroom ceiling had intersecting, spidery cracks.

And a distinct bulge.

My singsong “Honey, I think you need to look at this…” spurred my husband into action. He measured the distance between floor and ceiling, cut a wooden railroad tie intended for the landscape, and whacked it into place with a massive rubber mallet.

Ceiling thus supported, we left for a week’s vacation in a beach condo where home repairs were someone else’s responsibility. A temporary reprieve.

When our contractor came to inspect the errant ceiling, he measured the distance from floor to ceiling, too.

In numerous places in the room.

The ceiling was more than 2 inches lower in the middle than near the wall. Even a foot away from the wall, the ceiling had sagged an inch.

The tall professional then walked around the room pushing on the ceiling every step or two. The ceiling moved upward so much — because it had so far it could move — the pocket door to the bathroom on the far side of the room rattled in place.

Scary. We were sleeping under that roof.

A trip to the attic showed no broken trusses or roof damage but did reveal a gap of multiple inches between the ceiling joists and the ceiling.

“Likely caused by the plaster they used in the ’70s — it was much heavier — and their choice of nails — not screws — to attach the ceiling to the joists,” the contractor explained.

The surprising solution

Whatever the cause, the heavy ceiling was falling and wedging it in place with a pole was not the answer.

What was the answer?

Wedging it into place with multiple poles!

Multiple pole jacks, to be precise.

What a jack does to a car (with your help), a pole jack can do to a ceiling. Or a pole jack with a strategic contractor can do to a ceiling. (I hope I’m not giving away his trade secrets.)

Jordan used the pole jacks to hoist the ceiling upward to meet the trusses and joists and, once there, guided screws through the ceiling into the joists.

“Twice as many as we needed to secure it,” Jordan said.

He and his partner started where the ceiling was still attached and then moved the jacks a foot or so away and did it again.

And again. Until every joist was apparent by the line of screws they’d added.

The screwing completed, contractor removed the pole jacks and addressed with plaster and paint the dimples and holes pockmarking the now-safe ceiling.

He made it like new.

The moral this story?

Jordan’s “trade secret” puts the moral into this tale of poles in my bedroom. (I know you were wondering.) Notice, he did not tear out an overweight ceiling and construct something new.

No, he pressed an overburdened ceiling upward toward the unmoving, strong architecture of trusses and joists and held it fast with screws that will not let go.

What’s more, he started where he knew the ceiling still was attached.

I am reminded of this: When I am overburdened with the cares of this world, feeling detached from my strong God, I need to press upward to Him. I know He holds me fast with a love that will not let go.

(I also ask my friends for the “pole jacks” of their prayers.)

The Bible declares Jesus is our “firm foundation” (Isaiah 28:16 and elsewhere), but today I think of Him as the strong, unmoving roof and I am the ceiling, pressed into Him, held fast by His love, which God says lasts forever:

“… I have loved you with an everlasting love;
    therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you” (Jeremiah 31:3, ESV).

The snarky afterword

Of course, this story is too good not to share, right? So, I should have expected some mischievous responses when I told it.

“Did you keep the pole up?” one of my colleagues asked in our senior management meeting where I’d relayed the saga. I shouldn’t have been surprised.

My answer to her was no.

And not just because the pole was now too short.

Splinters.

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