God Really Does Care About Dishwashers

It all started a year ago.

Well really, my story begins many more years ago.  As does yours.  But I must pick up somewhere, and this is where I begin: with the dishwasher.

It was December 1st, 2011.  My husband and three children picked me up from the airport.  I had just spent an entire month overseas.  Zimbabwe.  AH... yet another story.  Anyhow.  My husband brought me home to a new home.  While I was away, he had moved us into a new house that we closed on literally the day before I left for Zim.  It was a foreclosure home, and needed much work.  We had big plans.  But the top priority was new flooring, check.  Reposition the basement staircase, check.  And appliances, check.

So with a blindfold, I entered into my new home, starting in the kitchen.  I opened my eyes and with my husband in full beam behind me, I laid eyes on the most beautiful set of matching used kitchen appliances: Gas stove and dishwasher, glimmering stainless steel.  We had purchased the refrigerator before I left, so that was set.  My husband was so excited to show these to me, because they all matched.  Same steel, same brand, everything.  Craigslist had provided a sweet deal, once again.

Washing dishes is my least favorite household task.  I've come to embrace it out of necessity, but I really would rather scrub a toilet or organize a bookshelf.  Seriously.  We have moved every two years for some time, and with our growing family I've always had one "no budge" piece of criteria in our home: Must. Have. Dishwasher.  Well in this case, my husband went out of his way to pay extra for matching, ripping out the dishwasher that was left in the house, to provide me with one that was "extra good".  One problem: it didn't work.  Now, my husband worked his tail off while I was gone... He didn't even have kids to look over- just his chiropractic practice.  Once I arrived, he made the house livable and we've been pounding away little by little ever since.  I should really say "he" not "we".

So this beautiful dishwasher, all shiny and "new", it even came with a few nice spatulas and sippy cups left over inside!  Ah! Bonus!  So the cupboards flung open, the dishwasher shimmied into its perfect little spot... and the hoses don't fit.  At least two trips to Menards and many hose clamps later, it still didn't work.  I went for four months with out a dishwasher.  I didn't complain, but on that day that the appliance repair man left in his aqua colored Dodge truck, I jumped for joy!  I proclaimed that He was my new best friend!  I couldn't wait to load it up, and press START.

So it hummed along and washed dishes for a few loads, and thats when the mold came.  The heating element had burst before we even purchased the dishwasher.  The dishes where getting washed while the dishwasher was getting nasty.

So why am I on this seemingly pointless tyrade about dishes?  Oh just wait.  I started a blog because of this story, so you must read on to the end.

The heating element was bought and paid for at SEARS.com, and now we have paid more in repairs than we did for the machine.  It took a few months for the element to be installed, but once it was the inside was scrubbed down and again, I was on cloud nine because of this modern day convenience.

Then we began to smell it.  Something hot.  Then... nothing.  No lights on the front panel. No hum, no swishing and circulating water.  Nothing.  Much to my surprise, dishwashers are hard wired, so my husband did sort of chuckle when I was riding on the hope that it had just become unplugged.  Nope.

So yesterday, my husband was in fix it mode.  With a big grin on his face he said, "Lets just say a little prayer that this thing will work."

"Dear God" I said, "Please let the dishwasher work.  Amen."

We both laughed, and then I said "I don't think God cares about dishwashers. (Long thinking pause)  But then again... he cares about spice funnels (another story)."

"He cares about US." my husband replied.

So I sat nursing the baby, and I still don't know the diagnosis, other than it it still doesn't work.

I saw I had missed a call from a friend.  So after a few more story books with my son, I dialed her up and left her a voicemail.

A bit later, around lunch, she called back.  She wanted to ask me if I needed any help.  She had known that my dishwasher broke, and she stated that she loves doing dishes.  She wanted to offer a hand, and had about an hour to give.  I have a seven week old baby... and this is what us 'sisters' do.  We help.  She is an amazing woman who gives to so many people.  She gives her time and talents.  I was humbled.  I didn't want to accept the offer.  Sometimes us ladies can be territorial over our kitchens.  It might be that we don't want others to even catch a glimpse of our mess; thinking that they will judge us.  It might be that we only wash dishes in a certain way.  Or, it might just be that we don't know how to accept help.  We think we need to be wonder-moms and do it all ourselves.  I've been working to dispel this "do it all perfectly" mentality.  With gusto and giggles I replied, "Yes.  I would love your help.".

As she was asking to come wash my dishes, I couldn't contain the giggle.  I couldn't believe it.  God heard my somewhat snide remark.  I didn't say it to be sarcastic, I just don't usually find myself praying over a dishwasher.  The fact that this all came together in one morning, within a few hours just reminds me how our amazing God is right with us every step of the way.  He really does care about dishwashers.  So much so, that he sends them not only in human form, but in the form of a dear sister willing and ready to serve.