Fifteen Cents--Lessons Learned: Priceless!

Every cloud has a silver lining--God really does bring good out of bad (Romans 8:28). Being raised in a harsh environment redolent of criticisms resulted in an extremely strong predisposition for seeking peace in my home. In other words, when I grew up I made sure my home had the beautiful fragrance of peace, free from strife. When I married, part of that peace came through the determination that I would never, ever, EVER do that awful three letter word women are famous for, and that so suffused my childhood home with painful memories--NAG! It's not good to toot your own horn (even Jesus talked about that!) but I think my husband would attest to the fact that I have managed to stick true to that determination. However, I am learning that maybe, just maybe, some situations call for tempering that hard-won principle.

I had asked my now deceased husband if we could get the chest pictured on the left for our new home. At the time he was battling the ravages that came with chemotherapy and although he did consider the request, in the end he determined that we would look into it, "once all this is behind us." In other words, once the expenses and stresses that were defining our lives at the time were mere memories. So I waited somewhat impatiently… and when the Lord healed Steve by taking him home to glory, I went and bought the chest he had said we would get when all the cancer stuff was history. It was a symbolic step to me, that the painful life full of hurts was indeed past. The future would be graced by good, exemplified by this thing of beauty.

I loved, loved, loved my chest decorated with fruit, the theme in my kitchen. Any time my eyes came to rest on it, a little spigot of joy turned on in my heart. To me, the pricey chest was worth its cost. Except for one little thing. The knob on the second drawer kept falling off. Any time I opened it, I had to be careful not to have it careen out of my hand and go bouncing around the floor. Despite this flaw, I loved my chest.

Not being handy with tools like Auntie (no loose screw dared disobey her trusty screwdriver!), I learned to live with the defect. Then Dennis entered our family, he of the knowledge of tools galore. So I took advantage of his expertise and asked if he could fix my faulty drawer. Sure, no problem, he just needed to buy a thingamajig at the hardware store.

And since I am resolved NOT to nag, I waited. And waited. And waited. Decades went by and my knob stayed … defective. (But I didn't nag!!!!!)

Finally the day came when my chest was going to be shipped to Tennessee, to our new place of residence. Dennis had gone ahead, getting our new home ready for my arrival, and I was left behind to pack, and pack, and pack … and worry about that dratted knob. The knobs are distinct enough that I knew if that silly knob took to flying off in the moving van I would be hard pressed to find a matching replacement. My little problem would bloom exponentially into a BIG problem. Now I was at an impasse. It was beyond the realm of possibility for me to nag now--because there was no one at home to nag at! What to do? What to do?

Being the smart cookie that I am, I realized that I was down to the nitty-gritty--it was either suffer the consequences of moving the snarky knob as is--or gird myself like a man and try to fix it myself. I opted for scenario number two. I took the offending doorknob to our local hardware store and asked the kind gentlemen there if they could help me. Soon I found myself in an aisle with row upon row of nuts and bolts, and a kind young man who took the knob, zeroed in on the right drawer, and pulled out just the right sized nut (the technical word for the thingamajig in this instance) to keep my knob from slipping off.

Elated, I took my hard-won prize to the cash register and handed it over to the young lady there. I was ready to pay--a rocking FIFTEEN CENTS! DECADES OF AGGRAVATION ERASED BY A MERE FIFTEEN CENTS!

I scurried home and found that it was an amazingly easy thing to attach the knob to its drawer AND HAVE IT STAY THERE!!!! All because of my new, wonderful handy dandy fifteen-cent nut! Move over, Auntie, I'm gonna catch up with your fixing-things skills! (Not! Even I know that a teensy weensy nut is nowhere near the complexity of a loose doorknob!).

So … little Miss Smarty Pants can have her cake AND eat it, too! I kept from nagging AND I got my knob fixed. How smart is that????

Not that smart at all, as I found out when Dennis returned for the final big move and I crowed to him about what I had done. Yes, it's a good thing to learn to be self reliant. But when your husband looks at you befuddled and says, "All you had to do was remind me. I would have been glad to do it …" you realize that the NOT nagging had taken on a life of its own … It had nestled right next to pride.

So now little Miss Smarty Pants has learned (I hope) that gentle reminders are not to be equated with nagging. All things work together for good-- my foray into all things mechanical built a little confidence in tackling household problems--but I have also learned that there is a fine line between standing on a principle, no matter how good it is, and clinging onto it so much that it begins to take on a life of its own, even knudging it to slip into not-so-good pride. Isn't that what the Pharisees in Jesus day did? They prayed (something good in itself) but in such a way that it's goodness was negated by pride.

Lord, thank You for a lesson learned through fifteen measly cents--and please continue to open my eyes to those secret flaws that don't please You or exalt You. Even when it hurts.

"Who can discern his errors? cleanse thou me from secret faults." Psalm 19:1