One of the most powerful illustrations I ever heard gets its
strength from the simplicity of the image and the depth of truth it represents.
The person who shared it was Matt Hannan, a former pastor at Bethany Church. He talked about it at a couples retreat over
25 years ago. (I think that is where it was, but then again it is not important
because the place he shared it is not why it has stuck with me)
Every spring, every time I water the lawn, each time I wash the car I think about it. That is how good of an illustration it was.
Every spring, every time I water the lawn, each time I wash the car I think about it. That is how good of an illustration it was.
Let me share it with you.
Matt was talking about the brokenness in our lives and he
likened it to a kink in a water hose that prevents the flow of water. All of us have probably at one time or
another been watering the plants or washing our car and have experienced a kink
in the hose which cuts off the water.
Chances are, all of us have the same initial response. We stand there at the end of the hose and
begin to try and undue the twist.
At first, we may just give it a slight flick with the wrist. When this does not dislodge the knot, we put
a little more energy behind a good flip of the hose. This often moves the hose, but rarely unkinks
it. Not to be deterred, we then resort
to making wide sweeping circles with the hose, hoping this will untangle the twist. While we may look like we are practicing our
ballet in the backyard, it rarely works.
It is then that we resort to erratically flailing the hose.
By now, we are frustrated.
It has taken far longer than we wanted to clear the obstruction. It feels as if it has become personal. That
the hose is willfully keeping itself from being unkinked. We dig in our heals and refuse to be beaten
by a 50 foot synthetic rubber hose. It is
then that the hose gets all of our anger and fury and we thrash that hose with
all the energy we can muster. We have invested far too much in the process of
removing this kink while holding on to the end of the hose to give up now.
Now, every great once in a while, when the planets align,
the kink will be removed by this process.
By then, however, our frustration level has grown to the point that all
the peacefullness of a quiet afternoon watering the plants has been shattered.
In reality, most of the time this process simply does not
work.
If you want to unkink the hose and allow the water to begin
flowing again, if you want to do this
with minimal effort and maximum effectiveness, and if you do not want to engage
in a process that leaves you frustrated and in worse shape than when you began there
is only one way to do it. You need lay
down the end of the hose, walk back to the place where the hose is twisted, and
unkink it. Then the water will flow.
This is true of the brokenness in our lives. If we want the thirst quenching, life giving
waters that have been choked off by the twisted places in our lives, the only
way to really bring healing is to lay down the end of the hose, walk back to
the place where it got all bent up, and do the humbling and often painful work
of unkinking it.
I cannot tell you how often I have watched people, groups, organizations
and even churches stand there thrashing about with the end of the hose, hoping to
remove a kink that will allow the water to flow once again. This often brings even more pain, frustration
and dysfunction to the person, group, or body.
Unfortunately, it also almost never works. It only puts more kinks in the hose that cuts
off even more water.
What it takes, even in an organization, is one person who is
self-aware enough and brave enough to lay the end of the hose down and walk
back to the kink. This is when healing
will begin. This is when the water
begins to flow.
I am able recognize the propensity to fling hoses so easily because
I have been prone to flail a few hoses in my time and can still be tempted to
stand there swinging that hose through the air.
I have to be reminded from time to time just how ineffective,
frustrating, and damaging this whole process can be.
That is why this illustration has been so helpful to
me. Almost every time, I go water the
plants or wash the car and I get a kink I am tempted to begin flicking that
hose. Then I remember this illustration
and I lay down the end, walk across the yard, and untwist the hose.
This has done more than simply getting water flowing
again. Like a golfer who practices his
swing, or a pianist who practices a difficult piece of music, unkinking my
garden hose has somehow built into me a “muscle” memory that has effects how I
deal with the kinks of brokenness. When I become aware of one of these in my
life that is choking off life I more naturally now lay down the end of the hose
and walk back to do the work of untwisting it.
Today my friend Dana and I head out on a road trip to
Oklahoma. We plan to see some sites, do
some work, and have some fun. The truth
is, however, what we are really doing is laying down the end of the hose, driving
back to some places where we suspect there are a few kinks, and trusting that
God will enable us to untwist them.
I will let you know what we find.
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