Katy, I’m not sure who that was. I’m mostly just excited that someone would take me seriously enough to get angry. Your little ol’ theteet is a pretty big deal now, I guess.
i can think of two moments in my life when the sweet lord has gently tried to take me down a needed notch or two while i was fully aware it was happening. for the non-religious, remember that feeling when you’re pushing your parents on purpose and suddenly they do something or say something in a calm, firm way to acknowledge that you’ve been acting out? it’s at that point you can decide whether you’ll push them until you get a more colorful reaction, or you can stop while you’re ahead. now imagine that your parents are invisible and omnipresent. it feels like that.
the first moment was in the year 2000, right after my car accident. (regular readers have heard this before.) (yawn.) it was a week before Christmas, i weighed about 85 pounds, had been shot full of numbing stuff and was lying on the table at the surgeon’s office, preparing to have my jaws unwired after two months on an Ensure diet.
the doc literally had the wire clippers to my face when he said ‘lemme take another look at those x-rays.’ holding them up to the light, he said something like ‘you’re not healed yet,’ and i started laughing.
‘i’m sorry but i’m not joking,’ he said. ‘you need two more weeks. at least.’
i cried all the way home.
as crazy as it might sound, i remember receiving a distinct message from the almighty, who attributed the delay to the fact that i had not yet understood the severity of the lifestyle that had left me with a broken jaw in the first place, and that i needed a few more weeks in my room to think about it. turns out, he was mostly right.
although the signal is not as clear as it once was, the second time may have been in the shower this morning. Of all the showers in all the world, i have a suspicion that the lord shut off mine today. mid-scrub and covered in suds, i screamed for my husband, who confirmed that there was, in fact, no water in the house. what gives?
our well pump is what gives. or gave.
‘but i thought you fixed all of your weird water problems a long time ago?’
i know. i did, too. we already moved all the pressure tanks and accompanying switches and bells from a pit outside our house into the basement. Merlin may remember moving the big blue tank to the right.
but the crucial motor buried miles under the ground — the one that brings the water in to all that stuff we moved into the basement — is deceased. everything else is rendered useless.
it was not the shortened shower that brought me closer to god. something that took place between our pitless adapter and the water main gave me that distinct, very similar feeling of reprimand. only this time, i think it has something to do with me becoming too big for my britches. several other snippets in conversations have hinted at the same thing. but sometimes it takes a few cold jugs of water poured over my naked body to hear it.
so anyway, seth helped me finish my shower in the least romantic sense of the word, and we called the well pump guy today. he should be around tomorrow so that we can give him hundreds of dollars.
i just want jesus to know i got his message. he’s a pretty regular reader of theteet. (just kidding, Killey McGee! relax!)
you don’t appreciate water until the well runs dry.
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