Eleven-Minute Showers

Monday Devotion

So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her.

Genesis 29:20

“Eleven minutes.”

Jim tapped his watch and pointed in the direction of a downstairs shower. “Sarah’s been in the shower for eleven minutes.”

Jim was a pastor with whom I met weekly for prayer and Bible study. At the time I had just one small child, who needed to be bathed about every half hour. Hearing about a kid who cleans herself sounded to me like it was right next door to heaven. Jim’s face, however, showed the taut signs of prolonged frustration. I had no idea how long showers for thirteen-year-olds were supposed to last, but Jim’s tone made it clear that eleven minutes breached the limit.

As years passed and I became the bearer of a mortgage and the father of even more kids than Jim had, I began to understand Jim’s concern. I found myself coming home from work and being able to spot my house a mile away—it was the one with every light on.

One day, Lisa found me going from room to room, muttering under my breath, and she asked me what was wrong.

“Nothing,” I said. “I’m just trying to find a lightbulb that’s not turned on. I don’t want it to feel left out.”

Several years later, Sarah was ready to begin her first year in college. Jim and his wife had two daughters and an unusually close family, so all four of them got into the car for the two-day trip out to school. They stopped midway at a campground, and as Jim sat in front of the campfire, it suddenly hit him: Sarah won’t be living with me anymore. Living on a tight pastor’s salary, Jim couldn’t afford to fly Sarah home before Christmas break. Many months ago, the fourteen weeks of separation didn’t sound all that long; now, it felt like a decade.