When the Roof Needed Support (And So Did I)
April 2025 was the moment I realized how thin my margins really were. I had purchased a 45+ year old singlewide trailer the year prior and had a few construction-minded men that said there was nothing they saw that scared them, so I chose to purchase this fixer-upper. In this moment, I found myself staring up at the ceiling of a very old, thinly constructed roof structure, starting to sag from years of trying to hold the roof up. I had some tools. I had some experience. What I didn’t have was the know-how to do it well. There were gaps in my skill set that no amount of determination could cover—and pretending otherwise would only lead to collapse.
That realization didn’t stay focused on the roof. On the outside, I was functioning. On the inside, I was stretched past what I could hold—emotionally, physically, and mentally. I didn’t need a pep talk. I didn’t need to “try harder.” I needed support in places where my strength was already gone, and my knowledge just wasn’t enough.
When It Got Real
Well, I lost those construction-minded men “in the divorce.” The amazing thing is, God had already put some pretty amazing people in my life—and honestly, if you ever doubt His providence, most of the people who are in my life today came through a single friendship I made nearly 20 years earlier. God always has the last laugh… or should I say, the last hug?
What started out as a simple project—how was I going to make the trailer look less trailer-like?—turned into opening the ceiling to support the brittle bones of the roof. What I thought was going to be an update exposed some things that were deeply wrong, and it forced me to find a way to recreate strength.
Does that sound familiar to you? Have you ever entered a season of life where you think, Oh, this new part of my life… I’ll roll up my sleeves. I’ve got this. And then, bam… that new season explodes into something that can only be summed up by: “What… just… happened???” If that’s you, I just want to say it out loud: you’re not crazy, and you’re not weak for needing help. I thank God every day that I had friends there that day to walk me through it and support me—friends with the know-how to help me take something frail and give it strength. Friends who helped me figure out what the next step—the next right move—was.
The Bible puts it simply: “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2)
Have you ever gone through something in life—work, raising kids, relationships, health, whatever—and had support from friends, coworkers, even strangers, who helped you fill the gaps where you didn’t have the strength, the know-how, the capacity, or the courage? And then, after you had that help, you came out on the other end so much stronger than you ever thought possible? If you’re in that “gap” right now, please hear me: needing support doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human. And remember—help doesn’t always show up in the package you expected.
When Others Fill the Gaps You Can’t
This reminds me of one of the stories in Exodus 17:8–16: as long as Moses held his hands up with the staff of God, Israel’s army, led by Joshua, would be winning. But if Moses’ hands fell, Amalek would start to gain the upper hand. Moses could not do that under his own strength for a whole day, so he sat on a rock while Aaron and Hur stood on either side of him and kept his hands in the air until sundown. Israel prevailed.
There are many ways this shows up throughout the Bible. But it also shows up every day in our lives—as it did for me in a very old, very thinly constructed trailer home.
Speaking of this poor trailer, the roof was only supported by 1x2s, with a pretty darn thin layer of metal and a very thin layer of insulation—plus a little thicker insulation where it would fit. Forty-five years of crazy snow loads. Forty-five years of a tree slamming into it when the high winds blew. Forty-five years of protecting its inhabitants, with only 1×2-inch pieces of timber formed in a triangle over a 14-foot span, spaced every 16 inches. It was obvious it needed a LOT more support—especially in the weak spots you couldn’t fully see until everything was opened up.
As I sat that first evening with my living room completely opened up—insulation hanging on for dear life after we tore the ceiling material off the rafters—and with some of those 1x2s sagging under the weight of all those years of stress…
In the stillness after the chaos of the day, it undid me.
It was exactly how I felt in that moment: open, exposed, and failing in so many ways. If you’ve ever sat in your own version of that room—staring at the mess, wondering how you got here—I see you.
Fifty-plus years of trying… of fighting to make it all work… trying everything I could to find happiness and peace… trying to hold it all together and be strong.
But just like this trailer, I started with a purpose—and somehow, we were both still standing. Over my life, I’d had support. I’d had “updates.” Things added, things taken away. But this unexpected, huge, seemingly insurmountable issue we discovered that day was… just so much. And just like this trailer—by no right should it be in as good of shape as it is—I still had shreds of hope.
One shred was my faith: I wasn’t alone. Not only did I have friends who, despite this crazy start, were willing to come back and help me put it back together again, but I knew that even though in that moment I couldn’t feel Him, Jesus was standing right there beside me. not even one bit surprised. (“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” John 15:13.)
Another shred was this: through the trials I’d already walked through, I’d gained strength I wasn’t even aware of. I’d had enough additions and support to walk through this one, too.
I am so grateful I have my faith—that I know Someone greater has me. I know there are so many who do this without it; I honestly don’t know how. But the fact of the matter is, we all have trials. Some are absolute mountains to us; some are molehills we turn into mountains. What’s true either way is this: we got through the last one. And we’ll get through the next one. But I honestly believe there’s no way to get through life without people beside us. Sometimes that “people” looks like a friend; sometimes it looks like a professional.
The humbling thing in this season is that I’ve had to learn how to lean on people, ask for and accept help. I’m used to being the giver, so this has been hard. I am so very grateful for those who have—even unknowingly—made my life a bit brighter. Look for the gifts. Find the beauty in the sunrises. Get help when you need it.
How to Find Help for the Places You’re Weak
If you’re not sure where to start, here are a few gentle questions to sit with: What part of this feels heavy right now? Where do you feel under-equipped—emotionally, practically, spiritually, or financially? What kind of support would actually strengthen that weak spot this week? And who is one safe person you could reach out to—someone whose strengths might complement your gap (even if it’s just to say, “I’m not okay”)?
This is the biggest lesson I have learned and, actually, continue to learn. Help comes in all forms: friends, family, counselors, pastors, life coaches like me, and random strangers showing random acts of kindness. Sometimes you need encouragement; sometimes you need expertise; sometimes you need someone steady beside you while you take the next right step, or remind you to take a breath. Either way, the point is not that you’re incapable—it’s that we all have gaps, and the right help can fill them with strength. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself… and you weren’t meant to. Remember how good you feel when you are able to help someone where you have a strength, experience, or know-how. I’m preaching to the choir here: Let them do that for you.