You Just Have to Remove Three Screws

One of the evidences that I am getting older is that a number of "in my day" and "remember when" stories have started to creep into my arsenal. This occurred to me yesterday as I was trying to process the events of my late afternoon.

Remember when washing machines were fairly simple? A cylinder that was filled with water spun lazily one way then another and when the water was ready to be emptied the cylinder spun really, really fast to utilize marvelous centrifugal force to get the water out the drain. Pretty straight forward stuff. We had one of those for 12 years and I got to the point that I could diagnose and fix basic mechanical problems like a worn out clutch element.

Someone in the washing machine biz must have realized that this was a problem and billions of dollars in repair bills were being lost, so someone, somewhere in Japan invented the front loading washing machine. We have one. I'll admit, it has more buttons than my laptop, so as a guy I am immediately attracted to this device. Only problem is that it takes a PhD in mechanical engineering to fix - or so I've learned. Now to get the water out there is a complex pump at the bottom of the machine that spits the water against gravity to that drain they put halfway up the wall in all of our houses. Almost like gravity was a challenge to overcome rather than a helpful tool.

To give you a little context, the reason that we have a front loading washing machine is that my wife has OCD - obsessive compulsive disorder. It is a condition that she has developed as a way to order her world; providing comfort and control as a response to relational distress and chaos. OCD can take on many forms but for my wife it is particularly evident in the area of cleanliness and laundry. Before the crisis event in our lives last year, we used to joke about her neatness and laundry habit. Actually, by joking I mean that I deferred my super frustration with how much this meant to her by making jokes. Trying to appear like it didn't matter. Wearing a mask. Yet, inside I was lonely and not understanding why I was last on the list of priorities.

One of the pieces of good that God was able to work in the past year was getting my wife's attention that there was a lot of stuff in her past that she'd not worked through or even addressed and compulsions like the laundry were her way of putting a safe distance between us and also between her and God. She didn't know that. I didn't know that. Problem was that ignorance was not bliss, and my resulting behavior because of my loneliness, rejection and feeling disrespected caused me to play right into her insecurities. Vicious cycle. More of my failings in this area are sure to burst forth in future blogs.

While I now understand what is going on in my wife, that doesn't always make it any easier to respond to. For me that takes constant self talk and thinking through situations in a way that, right now, is unnatural for me. God made me good at relating to people in general, yet this is a stretch. Worth it in every way. Showing my love for her and being other-centered means that I need to make every effort to understand the trial of her world. Because this is still a process that I have to think through in each moment, times of stress become exceptionally hard.

So, I am still processing what I will call the front loading washing machine incident. (Not a catchy title, but effective.) Two days ago the machine stopped running, flashed an error message (told you it was cool!) and locked the front door. Good thing none of us had crawled in there, it self-locked when there was a problem much like the computer HAL in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Thankfully we had purchased the warranty and a repairman would be out the next day. For my wife, here is where the stress starts. A repairman....in the laundry room....is he a smoker?....will he take off his shoes....is he sick?....and many, many more troublesome thoughts. None is this is meant to mock her, this is very real stress. So far, I have done good. Listened with eye contact. Comforted when necessary. Assured that when she wipes the machines down they will be clean again. Probably not a perfect job by me, but it was genuine and I'm improving. She needs to know that I love her no matter what; that she can be secure in my love regardless of whether or not this is how I would choose to react.

Repairman comes while I am visiting a friend in Orlando. Success. New pump. He is a non-smoker. Kept his tools very clean. Picked up. She was happy. I was relieved and hoping that I had built up a little trust in this mini-crisis. To celebrate I listen to the Bellamy Brothers' "Let Your Love Flow" real loud three times in a row on my drive home. Home is where chaos ensues.

Disaster. The new pump leaks. There is water on the floor. Repairman will not come back until approved by the warranty people. But hope flows in from the internet and I'm greeted at the door by "Scott, you just have to remove three screws and we can see what the problem is!" My wife is so beautiful and my heart was warmed that she thought I could do this that I actually checked out the website and said to myself "it is just three screws" and I agreed. Pride strikes again.

Every husband just wants the respect of his wife. This has been a long standing struggle in our marriage. Feeling inadequate sucks and happens to be one of my three fears as a man (in this I'm not unique.) So I squeeze into the laundry room - room being a term I use loosely. Big man in a small space! As I lose feeling in my legs I spy the three screws. But wait, there are a bunch of pipes here as well. No problem to remove those, right? Wrong. Water, water everywhere. With no pump, gravity takes over. I really should have known this. The gush of water and me with a coffee cup trying to catch it all. I am losing. To make matters worse, I gashed the top of my hand directly into a vein. Water everywhere and I am bleeding like a garden hose with a hole in it.



Now all I can hear is my wife hyperventilating. Poor woman. Blood on the washer and dryer. Water soaking into the flooring that now needs to be replaced. Dirty, wet towels everywhere. Nothing will make you feel less adequate that knowing you did this and now your wife is literally hyperventilating because of it. Self talk is now gone and I am reacting out of my hurt. She says "all this mess in my laundry room" and I say "I'm doing the best I can" and on and on and on. It was really much worse a scene that I'm describing, but I am way, way long here.

Her OCD is hard for me to understand. I do understand what it is and why it is there. But I don't necessarily "get" it. It is not a choice for her. Hopefully it will diminish as she works through her issues with God, with me, and some others, but it may not. Either way, what IS a choice is my reaction. My pride was hurt and in that moment I became self-centered. I wanted her to think of me and affirm me. Back to my old patterns and I reacted out of my hurt. Rather than offering compassion and security I probably made her feel like she was defective and a bother. Someone who can only be loved if she performs well or doesn't trouble me. I used to do that a lot. When my expectations weren't met (and they rarely were) I became needy. Reacting out of my hurt. Only offering love when I felt like I got what I needed.


My motivation was not love for my wife, but rather love for myself.


As I've processed the events of yesterday, I do see that stress was the key factor. Because of the added stress of the moment I reverted back. It has felt good to be free of that old behavior, but yesterday was a reminder that it takes constant work. Loving my wife well must become a second nature and that takes time. I am learning, but slowly. Another bit of learning that I've internalized - God doesn't love me less for my failures as a husband (or as a repairman), in fact I think He is pleased with what I'm learning and in becoming the man He designed me to be. It's a process, part of working out my salvation.


Oh, also learned that next time I will wait for the repairman.