Trial by Dishwasher

(Note:  This is a long post, and you may be attempted to abandon it mid-way.  But it contains a principle that is perhaps one of the most dear to my heart.)

It came highly recommended by a leading consumer guide.  But towards the end of year four, disaster struck.  My wife noticed water seeping out onto the floor, dripping from the main motor that pumps the water over our dirty dishes.  My first comment to Tina was “I doubt this can be fixed”.

Enter my personality.  Not one to miss an opportunity to take something apart, I removed the two dish racks, loosened the screws that hold the machine in place,  disconnected the drain hose under the sink, and drug the dishwasher out from under the counter.  The fit was tight, requiring some finagling to get it free.  Once out, the dishwasher could be laid on its face, exposing its bottom.  Fortunately, it was not a modest dishwasher.  Once I had the pump out, the problem became obvious.  There was a seal that had disintegrated, allowing water to breach the barrier between the motor and adjoining pump, resulting in the drip. 

This would require the ordering of parts, so the dishwasher was replaced under the counter.  Once I got online with my trusty appliance parts store, a debate began about how many parts to actually replace.  It wasn’t apparent that the motor had been damaged, so I chose the economical/frugal/cheap route, and ordered just the seal.

With parts in hand a few days later, the repair process started with the laborious process of removing the dishwasher from under the counter.  Now seemed like a good time to install a drip pan (after the fact is better than not at all I suppose).  The pan fit perfectly, although it took even more finagling to get the dishwasher with its new seal back in its place.

The electric was turned back on, the start button was pushed, the machine filled with water, and then… nothing…just the faint distinctive smell of something electrical burning.  I expressed a little frustration, and Tina said we could just call the repair man…as I had done the best I could.  I informed her that I would sooner chunk the dishwasher out in the yard at this point.  I was not angry.  It was just a statement of fact, as it would likely be cheaper just to buy a new one than go that route.  Besides, it would mean defeat.

Later in the day, I decided to investigate the problem. The dishwasher was freed again from its home, with the same tediousness that was now very familiar.  I discovered that water had made its way into a bearing and was binding the motor up.  A liberal amount of oil was applied, and the machine was re-assembled, again.  I pushed the start button.  It filled with water and the motor started, but now with a highly irritating grinding that sounded like it would self-destruct at any moment.  I decided, wisely, to sleep on the problem, and attack in the morning with renewed passion.

Waking early on Saturday morning, I was prepared to have this task finished by breakfast.  The dishwasher was hauled out from under the counter, a little less gently.  Before ordering a new motor, it had to be confirmed that it was indeed the culprit, and not some other issue.  I hot-wired the motor, and it made its awful racket sitting in our kitchen floor. 

It appeared that the motor would function without causing any harm for the next few days until the new one arrived, so I put it back in and shoved the machine under the counter.  Breakfast was about ready, and I wanted to run a load of dishes right away (it so happened that Tina was fighting pneumonia at the time, and the kids and I had been doing all the dishes by hand).  It was after completing the last re-installation step that I noticed, sitting among my tools, the pump assembly, which I had inadvertently left off. 

Not wanting breakfast to get cold, we sat down to eat.  I called my criminal attorney uncle in Louisville.  “I know you are connected,” I said…. “I need some C-4 to put in my dishwasher.”  For the rest of the day Elias and Asher asked if we were really going to blow up our dishwasher, and were greatly concerned about the mess it would leave in the yard.  

 

Unable to attain the C-4, the dishwasher did in fact remain in the house.  The new motor was installed when it arrived later in the week, and it works perfectly at the moment. 

Despite the few quips about the potential fate of the machine, I believe my wife would confirm that I demonstrated an extraordinary amount of patience throughout the long and annoying dishwasher debacle.  But I was not striving to be patient.  The fact is, there was a different emotion that dominated my being during this whole incident.  That passion was an insatiable desire to successfully repair our ailing dishwasher.  We aren’t talking about some great spiritual breakthrough here; we are talking about my flesh and personality on the level of earth.  Problem solving such as this has been a life-long compulsion for me.

It would appear that the patience was a by-product of that drive to solve a problem.  If I had attempted to pursue patience itself, I seriously doubt the dishwasher would have survived.

While it doesn’t translate exactly, there is a comparable principle involving the Christian life.  It operates in a similar fashion to my so-called patience.  If we pursue any kind of virtue as a thing in itself to be acquired, we will surely fail.  The key is not to become more determined to be virtuous, but to direct our passion in another direction.  The key is to pursue The One Who is virtuous throughout His being.  This One is Jesus Christ.  Out of that pursuit, change will come as a fruit, a by-product.

A friend of mine recently pointed out this principle in Abraham, who was called a “Friend of God”.  That friendship produced a man who became known as the “Father of Faith”, a man who had grown to a place in his faith where he was willing to sacrifice his own child, believing that his God would resurrect and fulfill His promises through Isaac.  Now that is extraordinary faith.  Yet I doubt Abraham set out to have that kind of faith, but simply to walk in the light he had from The God he loved, The God who was his friend.  Ultimately, the fruit of that walk, that friendship, was great faith.  That faith was proven to be extraordinary on Mount Moriah with his son Isaac.

It is critical we get the order correct.  We hunger and thirst for relationship with Christ first.  And then, as our lives are united with His, the result is new life, new fruit, just as the union between a blossom and pollen produce fruit.  To reverse the order and pursue the fruit first is simply a work of our flesh, and will surely fail.  On the other hand, fruit that happens in the midst of a life with the God you love... now that’s a different story.

First appeared in the March, 2010 edition of the Manna. http://readthemanna.org