November 24– “The Regulator”

Today was a great day and a sad day. It was a day of rescue. It was also, sadly, a day of loss. We arrived at the house fairly early and began digging into the backyard storage shed. The small portable building had toppled over during the flood, and we had only reached it last week. Inside we found a gold mine of pots for plants, uncompromised spa chemicals, assorted backyard-type junk destined for the trash heap long before Ike solidified their fate, and the two turkey fryers. An intermittent rain created a dismal atmosphere for the uncovering. But we continued with the task, determined to find out if this Thanksgiving would have its fried turkey or … not. They both cleaned up as well as could be expected. The propane tanks attached seemed to be fine – and not empty. I moved to the first one – the "Original Fryer." I turned the tank's valve and moved to the regulator. This would tell the tale. I turned the big red valve slowly. And nothing happened. Not to be deterred, I tried again. The gas began to flow. I lit a match and dropped it in the direction of the hiss. A small explosion of fire arose and continued. I was elated. It was going to work. I reached for the regulator to … regulate … the flame. And nothing happened. I twisted the knob in the direction that was supposed to stop the gas flow, but to my horror, the knob broke off in my hands. No regulator. No way to control the temperature. Any turkeys fried in this machine would be doomed to burn to a crisp. Sadly, I extinguished the blaze by turning off the flow at the tank. Dejected, I disconnected the fryer and dropped it into the wheelbarrow and carried it to the waiting pile of trash. Hopes for the tasty delicacy that had become a part of our family holiday celebration years ago seemed dashed for the moment. Not expecting much, I turned to the second fryer – our last chance. The steps were the same. Twisting the knobs in the proper order. Dropping the tiny match into the path of the hissing gas. Watching the flames leap to life. And then the moment of truth – the regulator. Slowly it turned. And slowly the fire responded. It was working. Success. We will have Fried Turkey this Thanksgiving! Not long after, we left for WalMart to buy some turkeys and the secret ingredients to Alex McLaughlin's powdery basting recipe. That's when the waiting really began. The turkeys were still somewhat frozen. They had to be thawed. Fill up the sink with water. Change it every now and then. And wait. The thaw finally happened. Necks and guts were removed. The Alex baste was applied in earnest. Tomorrow we fry. I thought about that regulator today. Without it the turkey fryer was useless. There was no way to control the temperature. Too hot and the grease would catch fire. Too cold and the turkey would never cook. What is our spiritual regulator? What keeps us from going off the deep end into emotionalism? What stops us from getting so intellectual that our Christianity becomes a cold, dry religion? The Bible is the key. Where else can we check up on our actions and even our motives? Psalms 119:105 says, "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path." Father, we need that lamp down here, because it's been awfully dark lately. Amen.