The Spiritual Implications Of Rain Gutters

Saturday Rex and Donald teased me about having no sense of humor.

I do have a sense of humor.

But we were dealing with a serious situation.

Over the past several weeks I have painted our house. One major thing remained to be done — attaching rain gutters. I could not do this by myself. Last week in lifting a heavy lawnmower onto a work table to repair it I pulled a muscle in my side and that injury combined with my arthritis, prostate cancer and quiver tremors leave me in such pain that I have trouble bending over or lifting my right hand as high as my head.

So I had to ask my friend Rex and my son Donald for help.

I hate asking anybody for help.

I’m proud of doing things my self.

Too damn proud.

Rex and Donald responded willingly. But they found my afflictions funny as I’d grunt and groan whenever I tried to lift anything. They laughed at my pain and accused me of having no sense of humor.

Here’s a photo of them riveting rain gutter sections together:

Now, before they began, I’d painted the house to perfection. No drips. No spills. All lines crisp and straight. Then Rex and Donald showed up. Here’s a photo of them just getting started:

They leaned ladders against my perfect paint job and swung like monkeys from my roof. No I did not find their riveting and caulking and drilling and grinding and chopping and leveling and snapping the chalk line at all funny. And they said I have no sense of humor. I felt they were in dire need of adult supervision — which I, pipe of wisdom in hand, supplied:

Rex is an experienced contractor. He took Saturday away from building his own new home to put up these rain gutters for me. We’d agreed that I would ride to the hardware store with him and buy the materials with my credit card but before he came to my house Rex went to the store and bought all the materials out of his own pocket as an act of charity. He also brought over professional tools for the job: several different kinds of ladders and drills and grinders and cutters and riveting tools.

Here he is on a ladder attaching rain gutter:

And here is a photo of Rex and Donald smudging my newly painted walls while they accused me of having no sense of humor:

Is it any wonder that I have no sense of humor?

The photos show what a nice paint job I did while working by myself before these two showed up to help.

Here is what my house looks like after the two of them finished showing off their own skill, precision and craftsmanship:

Who says I don’t have a sense of humor?

Now I turn to the serious spiritual implications of installing rain gutters.

And this proved indeed serious for me.

I’m ashamed at what I’m about to write.

As well I should be!

This is so squalid.

I should be a better Christian than this — but I’m not.

This next reveals the way I am, not the way I should be.

The bottom line is that instead of feeling grateful to Rex and Donald for their help, I feel resentful.

The did a beautiful job for me, but I resent having to ask for help in the first place, I resent that the job did not start when it was supposed to and will take another week to complete. I resent that they did things in a different manner that I would have done it had I been able to. I resent feeling helpless and dependant on the charity of my friend and son. I resent the prospect of having construction clutter around for another week. I resent lacking the skill or the tools or the strength to finish this job myself.

Isn’t that pathetic?

Here Rex and Donald gave up a huge chunk of their weekend. Each paid cash out of their own pockets for materials and food and cokes. They went to a great deal of inconvenience to help me. They coped with my lack of humor and bitching and armchair supervision.

And instead of appreciating their sacrifices, I grow bitter.

Pathetic!

But typical.

As my grandfather used to say, “Some folks would complain if you was to hang ‘em with a brand new rope”.

That’s me.

When I talked over my spiritual darkness with Ginny, she said that I resent God because He is answering my prayer for help, but doing it in a different manner than the way I envisioned it. I want Him to do it the way I want Him to do it!

She said I’m resentful because I’m not in total control.

She said that everything in life is a spiritual test.

Even installing rain gutters — or watching someone else install them — carries spiritual implications

Both giving help, and receiving it, measures our devotion to Christ.

When it comes to getting a job done, the process matters more than the outcome.

The building Rex, Donald and I have been working on will not last forever, the relationship I build with my friend, with my son, and with my wife will.

The only thing in the world that lasts forever is people.

All that may be true — But, I do too have a sense of humor!