Dishwashers and Detours

Our dishwasher broke last month (right before my mom arrived for a two-week stay).  Normally, my fast-paced husband would have an issue like that handled within the week.  However, we are in the long-term process of building a new home ourselves and I am unwilling to spend a cent more than necessary on this one.  We haven't decided what appliances we will be using, so I don't want to purchase a dishwasher helter-skelter that wouldn't work with or fit in the new space (whose dimensions change on a monthly basis).

So, in addition to the new time commitment of homeschooling this fall, I am now washing dishes by hand up to three times a day.  To say that I lacked enthusiasm when starting this venture is a severe understatement even though I knew it was the right decision. But God was at work behind the scenes as He usually is.

What happened next reminds me of the time two winters ago when my husband was driving to North Dakota for work on treacherous two lane highways.  He was in the middle of nowhere when he suddenly had a piercing pain in his back.  It shocked him and he swerved to the side of the road.  In that moment, two semis crested the hill in front of him  -- side by side.  I got to keep my husband that day because sometimes pain and detours from God have a purpose. 

The purpose in a broken dishwater isn't so readily apparent as the miraculous preserving of a life.  However, I have been noticing a difference in my evenings.  Instead of me being left behind in the kitchen to clean up and load the dishwasher while my husband spends time with the kids, he joins me.  He knows that I've already done the dishes (at least once) that day and what a discouragement it can be to see a full sink again.  Now it is a time of reconnecting and working together that we didn't have on week nights when we had a functioning dishwasher.  I won't go as far as saying that we won't buy a dishwasher when we do build our future kitchen, but I'm beginning to see the purpose in this detour.

The higher you stack, the fewer you have to dry.