I don’t know why. I’ve done everything he asked me. I’ve bought routers and extenders and cords, oh my! I’ve signed up for the latest and greatest and faithfully paid my bills on time. But my Internet service—let’s call him Bill—has a long memory, and just between you and me, I once scorned him. And now, I’m pretty sure he’s out for revenge.
About a year ago, Bill asked if he could live at my house. As in, build a big, hideous tower on my property. I said no because, well, he’s ugly and I’m shallow. Judge me if you will. I knew it would never work.
So now he’s making me pay. And pay and pay, because he can’t handle rejection. It’s gotten downright nasty. Every day, I think about ending our friendship and finding an Internet who will treat me right. Except, there is no one else. When you live in a small town, your choices aren’t very broadband.
Yesterday was the worst it’s been. I woke up and everything was fine. Bill teased me with funny pictures of cats and delightful stories about Prince Harry’s wedding. And then, right when I was about to do some actual work, poof! He disappeared.
I turned my computer on and off. I turned my router on and off. Bill made a brief, taunting appearance—just long enough for me to log back on and check my email—and he left again. This went on all morning, in a twisted game of hide-and-seek meant for some kind of lost-in-the-woods horror flick. I finally called my husband Rick, who was at work, because he’s my hero and he knows how to fix everything, even from a half hour away. And apparently because I’ve become a helpless soap-opera female who can’t do anything for herself. I’m not proud of it.
Rick called the Bill provider and reported the problem. Soon, I got a phone call from a twenty-something techie who asked me to locate cords and little black boxes all over the house. All things that belonged to Bill. All things he left around to mock me. For over two hours I answered questions like, “Is the light on?” and “Can you read the microscopic numbers on the back of the box?” and “Can you follow the yellow cord and tell me what it’s plugged in to?”
No, no and are you kidding me?
Finally, when my entire day was shot and all my brain cells had done a kamikaze mission into the blender—along with my last nerve—Bill showed up again, all sweetness and smiles and oh-how-I’ve-missed you.
I now have Internet. I grudgingly welcomed him back into my life. Tomorrow, I plan to shop for a new white jacket with super-long sleeves.
Our Internet connections will come and go like many relationships in our lives. Some friendships will last decades, while others will pop in and out like Bill. But there’s one friend who has promised never to leave me or forsake me. I can always count on His presence being strong, any time I need Him. He will never tease me or taunt me with His company. At times it may feel like He’s disappeared, but I’ve learned when that happens, I need to check my connection. The problem is always with me, not Him. The great news is, the minute I call out to Him, He is there.
“Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know,” Jeremiah 33:3.