Becoming Hinged

Stardate 04.16.2026

The garage workshop project is moving right along.

In the first round, I came up with what I thought was the perfect solution for creating workspace in our one-car garage. Two heavy-duty hinges and two pairs of piano hinges arrived just in time for installation before men’s tennis. I was excited. The plan looked good on paper. The tools were ready. The vision was clear.

Then reality showed up.

After drilling and installing the piano hinges, I discovered a design flaw. The tabletop needs to pull away from the wall when the heavy-duty hinges are unlocked. That means the piano hinges can’t stay. I’ll need to order two more heavy-duty hinges so all four hinges work together properly.

I also struggled to connect to the studs behind the drywall. Either I’m slightly off in finding them, or there’s a sizable gap between the drywall and the studs. The solution? Mount four 2x4s on the outside of the drywall and attach the hinges to those instead.

Not exactly what I planned.
Exactly what I needed to learn.

The extra hinges arrive tomorrow. Saturday—after cardio tennis—will be installation day.

But here’s the good news.

Those piano hinges are not wasted. They will be perfect for my dream project later on. Nothing I ordered was a mistake. Nothing I did was pointless. Everything is simply finding its proper place in the timeline.

And that’s when it hit me.

This whole process is what becoming hinged looks like.

There was a time in my life when I felt unhinged—running from fire to fire, putting out whatever emergency was closest, trying to survive the day. No structure. No pause. No margin. Just reaction.

Now the fire trucks are parked.

I’m not reacting anymore. I’m building.

Slowly. Thoughtfully. Patiently.

This didn’t happen overnight. There is still work to do. But the outside work happening in my garage is a reflection of what’s happening inside my mind. I’m learning how things connect. I’m learning how support must be anchored to something solid. I’m learning that sometimes the first design reveals what the second design needs to be.

Hinged is better than unhinged.

A hinge allows movement, but it also provides stability. It creates flexibility without chaos. It permits motion without losing connection to the foundation.

That’s what I’m after in this season of life.

Not rigidity.
Not frenzy.
But steady, supported movement.

Scripture says:

“Let all things be done decently and in order.” — 1 Corinthians 14:40

Order doesn’t mean perfection. It means alignment. It means things working the way they were designed to work. It means the right hinge in the right place at the right time.

I’m grateful for yesterday’s mistakes. They taught me more than a perfect install ever could.

And I’m grateful that what didn’t fit today will fit perfectly tomorrow.

Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong

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Captain’s Addendum

Spock: “It appears, Captain, that improper hinges lead to improper function.”

Bones: “Translation? You put the wrong hardware in the wrong place.”

Spock: “A common human experience, Doctor.”

Michael smiled. Sometimes the lesson isn’t about avoiding mistakes. It’s about learning how to realign when something doesn’t fit. Becoming hinged takes patience, humility, and a willingness to adjust the plan without abandoning the mission.

May you find the right hinges for the season you’re in.
May you feel anchored, supported, and steady today.