(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
