“Insanely lucky.” What
does that conjure up for you? I encountered
it this morning at a repair shop where I presented my electronic hand-held
device. I began the conversation by
saying, “I bring you the cleanest cellphone you are going to see. It comes out of the washing machine.”
The technician’s response was, “Buy a new one.”
The look on my face led him to add, “There is no way to fix
it.” He had merely seen it in my hand,
nice and clean and shiny.
I explained to him that I had dried it off, that it was on and
working when retrieved, and that I immediately had turned it off. With a slight shake of his head he reaffirmed
his unexamined diagnosis. Seeing that I
was not yet convinced, he continued, “Unless you are insanely lucky, it cannot
be fixed.”
Not ready to surrender hope, I handed it to him. I even showed him the leather-bound case with
an interior plastic sleeve that had enclosed the device (without explicitly
mentioning the wash, rinse, wash and rinse again, and multiple spin cycles it
had been through). Friendly and
nonplussed by my explanation, he repeated, “You would have to be insanely lucky
for it to be fixed.”
Yet, obliging a would-be customer who remained cordial through
the exchange, the technician removed from the device what I think was a sim
card (for all I know). Looking
carefully, turning it on, examining the sides, running his finger across the
glass, he handed it back.
Worried that this was the end of the transaction, I asked the
technician what I should do. He said,
“Take it with you and use it. You are
insanely lucky.”
Sure that it needed to be opened up, I asked, “Aren’t you
going to take off the cover and see if there is any water inside that needs to
be dried?” He responded, “No need
to. It is completely dry. No water got in.” With a smile the technician reaffirmed, “You
are insanely lucky.”
Leaving my thanks, I was too surprised to say more. After a few yards toward my car, I knew I
should have told the technician that I was not lucky, I was blessed, as I later
recounted to my wife. She replied, “You
should have explained to him that we are all blessed.” And so we are.
We have a saying at the Washington Temple, where I volunteer
several days each week, that there are no coincidences in the Temple. Statistically unlikely incidents of joy and
happiness occur so often there that we are sure that we see the hand of God in
our labors.
I see the Lord’s hand outside the Temple as well, in ways large and small. For an all-knowing, all-powerful, perfectly-loving God, how can there be anything that happens by chance? In things as small as my machine-washed but undamaged cellphone to great matters of mortal life I have perceived my Heavenly Father blessing me every day. Actually, that is what Easter is all about, and what Jesus Christ came to make possible for us all.
