Washing Windows

When I was about nine or ten, my mom and dad purchased a service station. "Moore's Apco" was located at a prime spot on Summit Street and was considered a “full-service” station. A quick check under the hood and a clean windshield was expected while customers waited to get their gas tanks filled.

One lazy summer, I begged my mom to let me “help out” by washing the customers’ car windows. I was thrilled when she finally agreed—eager to prove my excellent window-washing skills and earn a few extra dollars.

The day finally came—I  was excited and ready. I had slipped on my most comfy tennis shoes, pulled my long hair back in a ponytail and practiced my winning smile. I was determined to be the best windshield washer in town!

It wasn’t long when my first customer, an older gentleman, drove in the bay.

This was going to be a piece of cake! I thought to myself.

I eagerly rushed out the door and was at the side of his car like a seasoned pro. After greeting him with a polite “Good morning!”, I began cleaning the driver’s side windshield with precision while taking care to periodically flash my winning smile.

Satisfied, I moved to the passenger side and began again.

As I stretched on my tip-toes to clean the windshield, the car’s antenna somehow slipped through the backside of my ponytail, firmly holding me hostage. My soapy hands instantly flew wildly at my captive head, tugging forcefully to free myself.

After a few agonizing moments, I paused and sighed. I was a helpless immobilized window washer impaled by a measly car antenna.

My eyes slowly peered into the vehicle hoping the older gentleman hadn’t noticed my awkward predicament.

He had.

A smile spread to the man’s face as he exited his car and rushed to my rescue. He gently maneuvered my soapy pony tail mess over the antenna, freeing me from my restraint. I was mortified—but grateful for the release.

That was the first and last day of my windshield washing job. I vowed never again to beg my mom into washing windows.

Sometimes in life, we have the best intentions in doing good, but in our own strength we fail miserably. Without the help of Someone greater, we can end up like an impaled puppet, wildly flapping our arms and getting nowhere fast. We look helpless, awkward and can even become immobilized.

But if we stop and look to our heavenly Father, He waits with delight to gently rescue us from our restraints. He is our Rescue and ever-present Help.

“Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.” –Psalm 91:14