Construction has begun. The new school building in our community has finally acquired all of its permits and the dirt piles are moving. There are enough heavy machines to keep a passel of toddlers entertained, though the fences deter curiosity for short people. 

A mile away, there is also action for the purpose of a new thrift store. Locals have loved the store we affectionately call BATS for many years, and that project too is underway. 

A third site is hopping, even closer to my front door. A home is on schedule to be built up the road, and the workers arrive with the birds. If I knew nothing about the steps required to assemble an abode worthy of protecting a family, I might be concerned. So far, it presents as a mess. There are gaping holes in the ground, boards askew across the torn up grass, mountains of mud, and a lot of noise. 

But this is how it goes. Walls and windows come later in the process after a foundation, and floors. Safety for the children who will eventually sleep there does not show up for months, and wallpaper a while after that. 

Making sense of the chaos is not my forte. I cannot tell a well dug basement from a crater left by an asteroid. But a skilled foreman can. He or she knows about depth, and clay soil, in a way that can make or break a colonial that will keep people warm for a century. 

Building a beautiful human is complicated, too. In the early stages, it can seem haphazard. Yet God seems to understand, and is comfortable with mess. 

"We can see from this that divine providence is universal because it attends to the slightest details, and that it is an infinite and eternal creation that the Lord has provided for himself by creating the universe.

We see nothing of this universal providence, and if we did see it, it would look to our sight like the scattered piles and random heaps that passers-by see when a house is being built. The Lord, though, sees a magnificent palace constantly under construction and constantly being enlarged." Divine Providence