Lessons Learned From A Dishwasher Disaster

   This past weekend was a blur of craziness... but within the blur, there was one experience that stands out, because I learned something from it that I'll (hopefully) never forget.

  As you might remember, I work at a small upscale restaurant, but before I joined the ranks of the bussers and waitresses, I started off as a dishwasher. Now last week, I got called into work on Saturday night for dishwashing because the regular dishwasher couldn't do it. Not to be egotistical or anything, but I'm probably one of their fastest dishwashers...I can usually get everything done in record time. Actually, I think I'm better at it than waitressing, and usually I don't mind taking over shifts, but this time I was hesitant to agree because I had to get up early Sunday morning to sing at church. But to be a good employee, I grudgingly agreed.  
   
   After a long Friday night of working, and a Saturday afternoon of rehearsals, errands, and preparing for singing the next day, I was less than thrilled about going into work for 6 hours. I think as a result of neglecting my prayer time that morning, I was starting to feel the effects: agitation, worry, distrust. But I just said a hurried prayer and moved on.

   Well, if I had known what a heck of a night it was gonna be, I would have 1) taken more time to pray, and 2) probably felt like Jesus before His passion...intense dread.

   When I got there, I was informed that one of my bosses (and also the co-owner) had thrown her back out and couldn't work. She's usually the head waitress, so they had to call in another, somewhat inexperienced girl to step in for her. That was the first indication of a stressful night.

   Everything went smoothly for the first seating though, and around 8:00, we started preparing for the 8:30 seating as usual. I happened to notice that the glasses had started coming out of the 90-second high power dishwasher a bit foggy, so I decided I should probably drain and refill it. The process is a little complicated, but I managed to remember. Except for one small detail--taking out the circular plug from the plastic strainer compartment. I remembered a little late, but when I went to press the start button, nothing happened.

   The sous chef, Anna (who is also the head chef's daughter), explained to me what I had done wrong and told me to do it over again. I did. And still, there was nothing. While Anna prepared the meal, her dad tried to fix it. They assured me it wasn't my fault since it had happened before. Fifteen minutes later, we were in a panic. Chef couldn't get it working, the waitresses were behind, the first course was running late because there was only one person making it, and I was trying to keep on top of hand-washing the dishes. Chef looked up at me and said, “Molly, I hope you said your prayers because you might be hand-washing the rest of the night.” Okay, you're talking a fancy five-course meal, with lots of silverware, glasses, plates, plus pots and pans.

   
   I had a mini-heart attack and launched into a rapid string of silent prayers. I said every prayer I know, called upon nearly all the saints' intercession, asked my friend Jo (who was working with me) to pray too, and tried my very hardest to put my trust in God. I thought for sure He would be merciful enough to zap the dishwasher and make it work so I wouldn't have to go through that. I thought I was in a bad dream. Chef couldn't take any more time trying to fix it. But still, I kept saying my prayers, hoping for a miracle.
 
   I got nothing.

   I was on the brink of tears after an exhausting day, with the endless night looming ahead of me, and I was so upset at the Lord. How could He let me down? How could He not come through even when I apologized for neglecting Him and had prayed so hard? I thought I might just collapse from fatigue and stress, but miraculously, I didn't. It was the weirdest thing, but I suddenly felt a surge of strength and was able to get in my zone, working doubly hard. Everything around me seemed to be falling apart, but all I could do was hold up my end of keeping on top of dishes, and gosh darn it, I did my best. It says in the Bible about almsgiving, “Do not let your right hand know what your left hand is doing.” Well, I took that literally. One hand was washing while another was drying.

   With a little help from my co-workers and some chocolate cake, I made it through. I stayed on top of everything under the pressure and didn't have a nervous breakdown. And here's something even crazier: I was done the same time I usually am even with the dishwasher! Everyone, myself included, was pretty shocked.

   I couldn't understand the whole night why the dishwasher never started up again after I had literally begged God to fix it. But as I finished up and headed home, something dawned on me. I remembered hearing a few times that while God might not answer even our most desperate prayer, He will give us the strength to get us through the hardship we're praying to get out of.

   And I realized that's exactly what happened. I thought He had ignored me and decided I needed to work myself to death that night. But no, He gave me super-human strength and energy to complete the job and not give up. When I look back on it, I now realize there's no way it was me who did it. It had to be Him...so really, He didn't let me down after all.  
   
   It completely changed how I look at prayers being answered in the way we want. It also proved to me that “God's power is made perfect in weakness,” as St. Paul says. Sometimes God responds right away and miracles do happen. But often we're left wondering if He even cares. I'm here to tell you...He does. Maybe if He doesn't answer in a miracle, we can instead pray for help to get through our trouble rather than out of it. That's often when He surprises us with His strength. 

   So all in all, what I took away from the night was: chocolate cake is an amazing energy booster, always make sure you drain a dishwasher properly, and God knows what He's doing.