I’m no electrician. Just ask my kids.
A couple of years ago I installed an extra plug in our kitchen so that Nina could plug up Zeus (her Kitchen-Aid stand mixer). A few days later, a shriek echoed from the kitchen all the way to the attic. Zeus had shocked somebody.
My answer? You shouldn’t go barefoot. Go put on some rubber soled shoes if you want to help Momma in the kitchen.
For next two years, when somebody touched Zeus without being properly grounded, he shot an imaginary lighting bolt at them.
An electrician I’m not. I know just enough to get me in trouble.
The whole truth is that the ground wire used to connect the plug for Zeus had been cut off shorter than the other two wires and was covered by a bunch of black electrical tape, giving the appearance that there was no ground wire. Since I’m not even an apprentice, let alone a licensed electrician, I figured it would be ok, until the Greek god of an appliance began to take his fury out on little sock-footed Americans.
So, naturally when the light bulb in the dining room began to act strange and flicker on and off for a few days, I said, “That lightbulb is going bad.” I installed the fixture and bulb over three years ago, so I figured it was just slowly giving up the ghost.
A few days later, I went to the hardware store, bought a new bulb, came home and screwed it in before Nina returned from Lisbon. She would be proud of me.
Brownie points were mine for sure.
There were only two problems. She got home and didn’t like the “operating room” color of the bulb.
They only had bright white and not soft white! That’s not my fault, right?
The second problem? The bulb started acting like it had Gremlins, exactly like the last one. Then, it just quit working.
Now, in order to recoup some of my lost brownie points from the bright white debacle, I break out my tools.
I check all of the connections. Nothing. I bought a new section of wire, thinking something from the ceiling to the bulb may have gone bad. Nothing. I check the connections for the switches on the wall. Nothing. I swap out the switches. Nothing.
In short, I removed all of the variables, outside of swapping out the breaker (which appears fine) and pulling new wires through our concrete walls.
I’m stumped. Did I mention that I’m not an electrician? Because, I’m not.
That conclusion forced me to arrive at this conclusion. I need to ask for help.
I’ll give you that. Now.
I’ve exhausted all of my expertise. I have no more resources.
There are bare wires hanging from the ceiling and uncovered light switches poking out of the wall, and I’ve got two choices:
Keep eating supper in the dark or call someone that knows what they’re doing.
That’s just how it is in our spiritual lives. Our heavenly Father waits as we frantically try to fix all of our faulty wiring.
We don’t have the knowledge or the tools, but we keep fiddling away at peripheral issues rather than the root itself, instead of just asking for help. Spiritual stubbornness is the worst.
God waits for us to just ask for help. The greatest of all electricians, the Inventor of it all, knows if the problems we’re facing are in the breaker box or are simply the result of a bad bulb.
He knows the solution and desperately wants to reveal it to us. But, we’ve got to ask, and here’s what He said about the matter.
Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not. Jeremiah 33:3
So, what’s going to be? Supper in the dark again or a call to the Electrician? It’s up to you.