Obstructed (Part 2)

Posted on February 11, 2013 by Margaret

After a discouraging day yesterday trying to rod out a basement drain pipe, my brother-in-law Bervin and nephew Karl returned early this morning with a bigger, better cable machine, determined to solve the problem. They’d figured out that the pipe, on its way from our shower to the street sewer, had become blocked with hair-like roots surrounded by globs of dirt.

Apparently a tiny root needs only a sliver between two sections of clay pipe to work its way in. As it grows, it produces a network of new roots, and the steady water supply of a shower-fed pipe facilitates hearty growth.

Little by little dirt follows roots into the pipe, and voila, a colossal clog. The guys pulled out a bucket-full of root-parts along with a generous supply of rich black soil, and it wasn’t long before the basement smelled like a newly rototilled garden.

As Bervin forced the twisting cable further and further down the pipe, there was no end to the root-dirt combo they found. It seemed to be literally filling the pipe, some roots the thickness of a finger. How any shower water could have drained in recent weeks was beyond our understanding.

About 3 hours later and 60 feet of cable down the pipe, our diligent workers reached an impasse beyond which the spinning line absolutely refused to go. By their calculations, it had passed under our entire basement floor, through the front yard, and out to the road in front of our house. Still the whoosh of free-flowing water we’d all longed to hear, hadn’t happened.

Eventually everybody runs into projects like this one, a set of rigid circumstances that refuses to bend to our will. It’s exasperating and even angering, but neither of those emotions help solve the problem.

Sometimes we encounter people-projects just as exasperating and angering, and our frustration leads us to apply the same force to change a person as we applied to the basement pipe, with the hope that we can make someone bend to our will. We might use our most creative ingenuity in an effort to force them to change, but much like our basement dilemma, for various reasons it doesn’t work.

After years of trying and lots of failing on my part, I’ve finally learned there’s only one way to change another person, and that’s to step back and let God do it. His power to convict, correct, and create something new within a human being is in a category all its own, just like a professional plumber’s high-powered equipment is superior to anything we’ve been able to use in our pipe.

God’s Spirit can cause change to flow into someone’s life like we never could, and I’m hoping a well-equipped plumber will be able to get water flowing through my shower drain again.

(Fingers crossed.)

Jesus cried out, “Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’ ” (John 7:38)

Obstructed

Posted on February 10, 2013 by Margaret

Most of life’s crises begin so small they’re imperceptible. Whether it’s a cavity, a roof leak, or car trouble, in the beginning we know nothing.

Several months ago, I noticed our shower floor drain wasn’t draining as it should. Since this “beach shower” in the basement is the only shower we’ve got, I should have taken immediate action but ignored it for several more weeks. As it worsened, I thought pouring a gallon of bleach down the drain would help, but no.

More weeks passed, and the post-shower floor-puddle grew bigger and bigger. Eventually Nelson tried a plunger, followed by a toilet auger, then a liquid drain opener, and finally 25 feet of cable he purchased at Home Depot, hand-wound down the drain. But still it worsened with the water taking a full day to drain after each shower.

Eventually my neighbors came with a second cable, working in two linked floor drains, but the problem continued. We bought “the most powerful drain-unclogger in the world,” but the pipes responded by becoming 100% blocked.

* * * * * * * * *

When any of us first become aware a problem is brewing and have a chance to take quick action, we often don’t. Our reasons seem valid at the time:

My car’s been running great for 75,000 miles. That little noise is probably nothing.
I had a physical exam a month ago. If this new pain was significant, the doctor would have caught it then.
That spark in the wall outlet was just a one-time thing.

It’s easy to subscribe to the quasi-truth that “no news is good news,” at least until telltale signs of trouble pop up: a dripping noise under the kitchen sink, a thermostat unwilling to hit 70, a dog incessantly scratching himself. Instead of tackling the problem head-on, though, it’s simpler to hope it’ll correct itself.

But our hearts know better.

Spiritually we function in much the same way. Maybe we let a couple of white lies slip out, knowing they’re wrong but planning to correct them later. Then when we find ourselves in a lie-littered disaster zone, we regret indulging in that first little fib. Or maybe we fudge on a tax form, promising to catch up next time and end up with penalties and interest many times the size of our original bill.

God gave each of us an early warning system to help us stay out of trouble: a conscience. He’s moving us to take action the minute we think, “I shouldn’t be doing this.” If we ignore that and plunge ahead, we’ll be on our way to a mountain of misery.

Today my relatives arrived with a 50 foot rented, motorized cable, but after 4 hours of back-breaking effort, our sign still says, “No showers allowed.”

Stay tuned…

“Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” (Proverbs 4:23)

Funny how that works…

Posted on February 6, 2013 by Margaret

I absolutely love winter. My heavy black coat thickens into a super-coat, and the panting heat of summer is long gone. Snow is like the frosting on my wintertime cake, and I like to burrow in it, roll in it, and wriggle upsidedown happy-dancing in it. Truth be told, I’d like to live outdoors through the entire winter except for one thing: the people I love are inside.

The newest person inside the house is the baby who arrived last October. I didn’t stress much at the time, figuring her position on center stage would be short-lived. After 3½ months, though, she’s still the main attraction, and I have definitely slipped in the rankings. Most of the sweet-talk is still going her way, and the general public races to greet her first now, instead of me.

But something odd has happened in the last week. Deep inside me I sense the beginning of a strange affection for this mini-human. Unlike me when I was 3 months old, she can’t walk, run, stand, or even sit up. She’s virtually helpless, and my heart goes out to her. She doesn’t even realize she could reach the dog treats if she tried.

So finally I decided to reconcile myself with the fact that she’s here to stay, and along with that, I might as well get in sync with the others in our house. Now when I hear Midge or anyone else cooing or sweet-talking the baby, I no longer push in for my share of the love. Instead I’ve begun a little cooing of my own. Though it sounds more like a squeaky hinge, in my head it’s cooing.

And it’s funny what began happening. Last week when I gently laid down next to the baby on her play mat, both Birgitta and Midge ran for their cameras. “Look how cute he is!” they said, actually referring to me this time. “He wants to be with the baby. What a sweet doggie!” And click-click went the cameras.

Later that day I gave the baby two gentle kisses on her tiny hand, which was a special gift to her, since I give out only about 5 kisses per month. (By the way, she tasted very good.)

You know, sometimes when we want something badly (like I wanted all the attention), it escapes us. No matter how we try, we can’t make it ours. Then when we give up and surrender the thing we wanted most, it somehow comes to us! It doesn’t make sense, but that’s what’s happened to me.