Pinging

   My grandparents had a ping pong table in their basement that always intrigued me when I was a girl.    Occasionally I would attempt to hit a stray ping pong ball with the orange paddle across the dusty table.  Sometimes I would hit the ball in such a way that it would bounce off the ceiling and hit the floor, only to keep on pinging up and down, up and down.   It was hard to chase it down and recover the ball. 

    My husband uses a word to define that moment when one’s emotions have reached a certain height: pinging.  Picture that ping pong ball pinging off of the ceiling as it bounces up and down, up and down.  That would be an accurate description of me lately.  My emotions can ping all over the place; I need something to stabilize me.  To hold me still. 

     I have felt my body tense up under pressures that come like waves, like a sea sickness. Recently I had someone ask me if there was anything new going on in my life.  I was dumbstruck.  New?  Are you crazy?  I hope not!  I can’t handle anything new.  I told him “no, but I have embraced the fact that I live a busy life.  I don’t like it, but its just the way it is.”  He answered with, “well, don’t be busy then.”  My initial response was, “easier said than done,” but I knew he was right. Pinging is not pleasant, for me or anyone else around me. I do have choices.  Choices can be radical, and they can cause sweeping change.  Its about time for some of that change, even a midst dirty dishes.  

     The next day I went to my sink to wash dishes once again, and in my mind I started to complain.  I began to pray, and then a question came to me.  Could it be that you are you overwhelmed because you are underwhelmed by Me?  Yes.  The answer was and is yes.  I am only overwhelmed when I am underwhelmed by Jesus.  What would my days and hours be like if I was overwhelmed by Jesus, and underwhelmed with the burs and cuts and mud of this life? 

     My husband’s work pants and boots take a beating.  They have rips, hitchhikers, stains, and holes from walking through thick briers while he is surveying.  Sometimes he is overwhelmed by the stuff he must fight and cut through to get the job done.  Other times he sends me beautiful pictures of the scenery all around him.  It is then that he is underwhelmed by the briers and ticks and mud.  God’s beautiful creation overwhelms the problems.  He has sifted through the difficulties and looked at the good that remains.

     We have a colander that belonged to Chris’ grandmother.  She gave it to us to begin our married life together.  It has held up very well.  In fact two people have asked if they can have our metal colander, the most recent being my daughter.  I have used this colander to sift out many, many things.  As I think about how to resist being carried away by all that surrounds, I picture this colander that sifts away all that is unnecessary and holds onto what is needed.

     I have a Savior, and He supports me in the whelming flood.   Jesus helps me to remain steadfast, immovable, when all around rushes past me, threatening to carry me away.  He is my anchor; He then is all my help and stay.

     When something is anchored, it is not expected to move any time soon.  It is a picture of settling down or into something.  It is a form of resting.  Christ anchors me so that I can rest in the midst of the storms of this life.  When I uproot myself and drift away from this Anchor, then I am carried away by the overwhelming barrage of thoughts, duties, “ought tos”, and others’ imperatives.  In these times, I am underwhelmed and in unbelief.    I have uprooted myself from Jesus, the Anchor of my soul. 

     God’s grace is sufficient for the troubles and temptations of each new day. I need to resolve to let the washing of the water of the Word overwhelm me.   I need to be underwhelmed by all, but Him.  I have a choice, to ping or to be still in the presence of the One who holds me close, when all around my soul gives way. 

~Your Fellow Sojourner

 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him.  She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.  But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

 “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42