And Now the Dishwasher???

Have you ever had times when it seems like every time you turn around something else is broken?

For the last two years, that’s been us!

It’s been so entirely frustrating, and if I rattled off a litany of everything that’s broken and needed repair or replacing you wouldn’t believe me.

It’s gotten to the point if Rich says, “Well, you’re not going to believe this...” I instinctively feel myself whimpering, grabbing the checkbook, and bracing for the next disaster.

It’s been feeling as though our home has entered “repair season.” And I’m not gonna lie — it seems personal —like all the appliances and vehicles have ganged up on us, and they’re winning.

Ghrrr!

Seriously! Can we PLEASE just have one month where nothing breaks?!? Thirty days when no crisis ensues? Four whole weeks in a row where all the appliances agree to keep doing what we bought them to do? One month where the only thing on my to-do list is enjoy summer?

People blame social media, and all the picture perfect breakfasts, backyard pools, and bigger-than-life vacations that show up in our Facebook and Instagram feeds. But long before that there were stacks of glossy magazines like Better Homes & Gardens and House Beautiful filled with (literally) page after page of picture perfect homes.

After a steady diet of “wonderful,” “amazing” and “incredible,” it’s easy to feel like we don’t measure up. We develop expectations for our own lives — our own picture perfect lives — where nothing breaks, nothing gets stained, and dust knows better than to land on the end tables.

Surprise! (okay…notsomuch…) Picture perfect isn’t real life!

The grind of fix, repair, and maintain is part and parcel of real life, and while it may seem like those things slow our forward roll, they certainly don’t cancel it.

The funny thing is, when I think about it, the things I treasure most aren’t perfect. And in fact, I love them all the more because of their imperfections.

I adore old quilts because they’re crinkled and cozy from use, and I remember being snuggled under their layers watching Christmas movies in years gone by. I enjoy old books because those coffee stained pages tell their own story of other times I’ve read this tale. Butter-stained pages in cookbooks remind me of the banana bread I baked in another lifetime. Their wear and imperfections tell the story of their value and usefulness.

So why do I get my knickers in a twist when my own home starts telling me the same story?

I mean, it’s a HOME, not a museum, and it’s primary job is to be lived in. Of course things break if they’re being used! My favorite coffee cup gets chipped or the handle breaks off. The paint gets a scuff as I move furniture to clean underneath it. Spaghetti sauce leaves a permanent stain on the table cloth.

Nothing stays new forever.

The more I thought about it, the harder it was to keep the lesson confined to homes and appliances.

We need repair too!

Marriages don’t stay healthy because two people said, “I do” umpteen years ago. Friendships don’t survive without connection points. Faith doesn’t grow strong without seasons of rebuilding.

Perhaps this is one of the quietest lessons of the ordinary times in life?

Because guess what? Life is a lot like having a home. You don’t prove your care and devotion by never having to fix anything but by continuing to show up with your toolbox to do the work, even when that work isn’t particularly glamorous.

Who throws a party because the toilet quit leaking? How often do you see someone post pictures of a successful garbage disposal repair?

But hidden inside all those ordinary repairs is a simple declaration that this life is worth the effort.

A Question: What in your life have you begun to see as a nuisance instead of a privilege to care for? Is it your home? A relationship? A body that changes as it ages?

An Invitation: This week, when something breaks—and sooner or later, something probably will—pause before frustration takes over and ask yourself one simple question: How many years of faithful service came before this moment?

You may discover that what first feels like an inconvenience is also a quiet reminder of how much goodness has already been given.

With you in the growing,