Jesus Is My Plumber

Disgusting, that’s what it was.

This morning, after watching the sink slowly fill up and realizing that the half-bottle of drain cleaner I put in over the weekend hadn’t been very effective, I decided to put on my plumber’s hat and tackle the problem at the source. I removed all the bottles of hair spray and other assorted products from under the sink, put down a tray to catch the water and, ahem, “whatever else” might drain and proceeded to remove the trap. There was the problem, just as I suspected. A mouse-sized, soap-scum-englobbed, filthy wad of hair.

I grabbed a pliers and gingerly removed it to the trash can. And yet more! And still a third wad. Yuck. I swabbed out the remaining dirty scum and replaced the trap.

Watching the water drain out was very satisfying.

The whole thing was like going to Confession. I’ll do anything to avoid it, but all my efforts, no matter how well-intentioned, are like so much ineffective drain cleaner. It’s best to go right to the source and have Jesus be my plumber through the Sacrament of Reconciliation.

Why go half way?

*****

Image credit: Personal collection of the author.