Broken promises. The dish mop drainer slides nonchalantly down the kitchen cupboard door. It mocks me meanly as it once again lands with a crash on the cupboard floor. In spite of the promise embellished on the wrapping, it does not stick. No, indeed, it sure does not. In spite of following instructions, a clean surface, holding it fast for sixty seconds, not filling it up with anything heavier than a pair of yellow rubber gloves, it still taunts me. That crash in the middle of the night when it once again obeys the pull of gravity. The muttering under my breath as I once again press the suction cups into place with a stern admonishment to “Stick you little suckers”, making sure that the red edge (Indicator that it is not sticking) is hidden. But alas, this piece of deficient technology does not reign alone as symbols of useless stuff in my little house. No indeed. There is a list.

There is a corner stainless steel shower caddy festooned with a multitude of suction caps. It’s job is no more onerous than to hold a couple of plastic bottles full of shampoo and conditioner. I never ask more of it than that. But it too grows weary. The suction cups decide not to suck any longer. And it droops dispiritedly down the bathroom tiles, usually in the middle of the night so that the resultant crash will be assured of waking me from my slumber and confront me with either the thought of an imminent apocalypse or a noisy burglar coming to nick my Timtams.

Why is it that things do not do what they are supposed to do? You buy them with the expectation that they will do what they are designed for. Stick firmly, hold things. The shampoo holder’s younger sibling is smaller, and holds only a toothbrush and toothpaste. Its job is to firmly attach itself to the shower wall and stay there also. But alas no. It too stops sucking and crashes to the floor. Ha, then there are the picture hanging howszydoozers which will not come off until you remove them. What a blatant lie. They too grow weary of being stuck on that boring wall and slide down in the middle of the night. They promise not to remove the paint, yet my walls have several nasty little blemishes where they definitely have NOT peeled away when no longer needed. They have peeled ok, but taken some wall paint as well.

This blog is a bit of a vent, but hey – this woman has been silent out here in cyber space for a few months. A retinal detachment, surgery, recovery, then a slow return to work has occupied my time. I have done a lot of deep thinking during that recovery time. I have considered my faith which has been tested, but God is unlike any of the manufacturers who sell things to make a quick buck and to rip off the gullible.

God stands by his promises. In fact he guarantees them. He cannot and does not lie. He has promised to do a genuine repair job on us. He does this skilfully, removing parts of our attitudes which need adjustment, sanding down some bumpy negatives, oiling our rusting and creaking objections and then giving us a good polish so that we will shine for him. When we are broken, he mends us with compassion and love.

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