My family long ago stopped eating store-bought bread. This is why my Black and Decker bread machine has become a vital part of my kitchen. It is less than a year old, and I have never had a minute of trouble with it. Until the day it stopped working.
I was in a real bind, and I could only see two ways out: I could go back to the “tried and true” method of making bread by hand; or I could look into getting the machine fixed. This second option would mean, of course, long waits on the phone to Black and Decker in order to find out where the warranty repairs were done. It would mean spending hours looking for the receipt and trying to find a box, then packaging up the machine and making that ominous trip into town, to the Post Office. It would also mean that I would be without my machine for 4-6 weeks, which, of course, dictated that I make bread by hand anyway!
Being a busy person in the best of times, the thought of making bread by hand usually doesn’t appeal to me. But this was a particularly busy week. Beginning Saturday night, we were hosting an evangelistic seminar in our home, and there was much to do to prepare. With this in mind, the thought of making bread by hand somehow didn’t seem nearly as forbearing as getting the bread machine fixed!
The kids and I spent Thursday morning handing out brochures for the seminar. When we finished, we had just 15 minutes before it was time to leave for haircut appointments. I had a ton of things to do, but something impressed me to try calling Black and Decker. Imagine my surprise when I actually got through on the first try. I was even more astonished to learn that there was an authorized Black and Decker repair shop right here in my tiny home town, and I didn’t need the receipt!
I couldn’t believe it, but I still didn’t have time to stop at the repair shop right then. I had a zillion phone calls to make, to say nothing of getting the house, which I was still in the process of painting, ready for the seminar! But something prompted me to put it into the car anyway. “This way,” I reasoned, “next week, when I have the time, it will be ready to go!”
Once it was in the car, however, I knew it would be a shame to have the bread maker in town and not take it to the repair shop, and on my way home, I stopped. I had to wait for the lady to finish with a customer, but then except for us, the shop was empty. After asking several questions about the machine, she told me it would take about a week fix. I turned to go, but her next question stopped me in my tracks:
“What does your sweat shirt say?”
I glanced down to see that my coat had fallen open just enough to reveal the word “Jesus”. I opened it all the way and showed her the “What Would Jesus Do” logo. A short chat about Jesus followed, and as I left, I found myself thinking: Too bad I don’t have any more brochures in the car. If I hadn’t given them all away this morning, I could invite that nice lady to the seminar! But my next thoughts were disturbing: I could go back and invite her anyway! “No!” I decided aloud. “It’s too late. It would look funny if I went back. Besides, look at the time!” And I drove on home.
My conscience wouldn’t let me forget the incident, however, and when the lady phoned the very next day to say my bread machine was already fixed, I knew that I had to take a pamphlet into town.
The lady was delighted to accept the brochure, and to my ultimate surprise, she came to the seminar. She told me that this was just the kind of Bible study she was interested in. Then she said that if I hadn’t walked into her shop the day before, she would never have attended!
As she left that first night, I knew beyond doubt that God had broken my bread machine!
Lyn Chaffart