Running High & Dry on Patience.
I am not a handyman by any stretch. It’s not that I can’t fix things, it’s just that I was raised with a “patch it and keep going” mentality from growing up on the farm. A piece of baler twine, a self-tapping screw, or some duct tape can do a lot, right? But since my living room is not a barn (although my wife thinks it looks and smells like one sometimes), my “get by” approach to the honey-do list can be contentious at times. And that can test my patience.
Don’t we all have our patience tested at times?
And then the dryer broke.
And we all know that the home cannot function without dry clothes.
Trust me, we didn’t need a broken dryer. To have the household wash and dry cycle put on hold was not something I looked forward to—mainly because I wasn’t into fixing anything at the time. We had a very busy week and there wasn’t any room for things like broken dryers. We have a son on crutches recovering from a bone graft in his knee. We have books to write. We are busy with things at the church. Easter is coming.
There is no time to fix, deal with, or be backed up by broken dryers.
I took a deep sigh. Ok. We will figure out what to do.
After realizing the dryer warrantee was expired and the cost of a repairman was out of our budget, I decided to simply use our basement dryer. We use that one to dry things like barn clothes or muddy coats. “It’ll work in a pinch,” I said, semi-confidently, thinking we could slide by for a few days. But after taking the first wet load of clothes down and tossing them in, a fireball shot out of the back, and I heard a click. Great, I thought. Both dryers quit in the span of 15 hours!
And my patience was tested even more.
Though I’ve never had a dryer apart, I consider myself a great YouTube mechanic. YouTube gives anyone the confidence to do unprecedented things. I found a video that made sense and perched my iPad on our laundry room windowsill. I put my dizzy head to work and took the dryer apart. Suddenly I heard the jingle of change falling into the bottom tray. I looked to see a bunch of silver coins. “We’re rich!” I yelled to my wife. We both laughed as she collected the coins. $4.00 was gathered. After our amusement was over, I did what the video said. The parts were ordered. It cost $24.
And I waited.
While the laundry piled high.
My patience tested further.
“I’m going to the laundromat,” my wife said. She could hardly take the mountain of laundry building up through the house. But husbands can quickly dig their heels into a project when wives are ready to go to the laundromat, right? Even dizzy ones. Even ones with head injuries. Even ones who hate honey-do lists.
I checked our porch. Day after day. Amazon was two days late on delivering the parts. Ugh!
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
“Patience, my young padawan. Patience.” Doesn’t God teach us great things by having patience?
My wife spoke at a lady’s event one evening. That’s what she does—she’s an inspirational speaker. During the program she told them about our dryer dilemma and wove it into a message about trials, explaining that we had two dryers break on us in the span of 15 hours. The audience agreed it was crazy talk. They actually stopped the message, wanting to take action and solve her problem. One woman acted in kindness and gave her a love offering of $20 to help with the cost of a repair. How sweet of her. And the message continued—ladies being blessed.
When my wife brought the $20 home and told me, I added things together in my mind. Combined with the change we found inside the dryer, the money matched the cost of the new parts. $24—what a gift from God to help our faith along the way! We were elated and took this as a sign that things would be better soon.
When the parts finally came, I ripped them open with excitement. I was going to quick-fix this project, save the world, and be the hero in my wife’s eyes. I got right to it, dizzy head and all, and replaced the broken parts. Boom. Fixed. I put it all together. All done. Plugged it in and gave it a whirl.
The drum turned over—smooth as silk. My heart bubbled inside. I had accomplished the feat of the year and would no doubt earn a smile from my wife’s eyes.
It ran for 8 seconds.
Then a loud thump broke my concentration. And another. And another. And another.
The dryer was not fixed.
What happened? It was fixed! Honestly! Only seconds ago, I had conquered the world and saved the day. I did what no man could do, right?
And in my disappointment and discouragement, I quit. I put the tools down. I walked away. I was fed up.
But doesn’t patience need to run its course? Doesn’t patience need to run a cycle?
James 1:2 says it plainly. “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing.”
Patience? Run its course? Run its cycle?
The next day breathed a bit of new life into me. I decided to take the dryer apart one more time and give it another chance. Maybe I didn’t see something. Maybe I hadn’t put it together right. I can give it one more try, can’t I?
Carefully, I took things apart and inspected for problems. Finding none, I went deeper, further, and removed the front panel to check the drum again. When I did, I was shocked. Somehow, someway, something was lodged between the felt and the guide the drum rode on causing it to jump each time it came around.
I felt with my fingers: a bolt from a son’s motorcycle. But something else? What on earth? My fingers pried to remove the stuck items. And I wouldn’t have believed it without seeing it myself. My wife’s diamond earrings (albeit cubic zirconia)—ones that she somehow lost, long ago. Now found. Hallelujah! All because of a broken dryer.
And suddenly, a household hardship and honey-do project that nobody wanted was spot lit with paramount importance. Because we had found what was lost. Did patience run its cycle?
And isn’t that how good God is? Not only did He supply the $24 to fund the parts. Not only did He keep the dryer from being fixed so that I could find the earrings. But He taught me something more even valuable in the end. And I’m very glad.
James, you know what you’re talking about. I should count my trials as joy, brother. When I get to Heaven, I need to shake your hand. Just like our God instructs, I need to let patience have her perfect work more often.
So, I challenge you today, friend. In what way is God trying to teach you patience? How do you need to let patience run its course? When things get tricky—and you’re up to your ears in dirty laundry—how can you take time to hear what God might be saying?
I encourage you. Let Him run the learning cycle and turn the dryer’s dial to patience. With it, you’ll gain something far more valuable in return.
By Chuck Carr.