A Brick Wall

The past few weeks I’ve been butting my head against a brick wall.

Nothing unusual about that.

Except this session has gone on longer than such things normally do.

My frustrations range from dealing with minor, aggravating medical problems to troubles with my own short-term memory.

After continuing to fight the automated phone systems of insurance company and doctor’s office, I’ve determined that the best way to lower my high blood pressure is to stop taking medicine and never call either office again ever! I suspect that that’s just want the insurance company wants.

Malaise also permeates my work at the moment.

I have numerous projects to work on but none of them seems worthwhile.

Even when work-related projects have been broken down into manageable chunks, I balk at undertaking them.

The memory thing particularly bothers me. For instance, many times I have scanned historical pieces into my computer. I’ve done whole books based on this stuff. But yesterday when I attempted to scan a background history pamphlet into my files, I forgot how to do it!

That’s crazy. I’ve done it time and time again, but now the memory escapes me.

Prayer represents another brick in my wall.

It feels as though my prayers sink like bricks. I believe, but I feel as though it doesn’t matter whether I pray or not.

I understand that for most people, times of difficulty drive them to prayer. I’ve heard that many people forget God in times of prosperity.

For me, it works just the opposite. Times of joy springboard me into prayer, times of trouble sink me into sulking and wanting to avoid God.

Our public library offers many self-help books promising to help me reconnect with my authentic self, discover my potential, put me in touch with my feelings and cure my fallen arches. I checked out one book that seems reasonable and began the written exercises… about five of them. Then I absolutely balked. I found every excuse possible for avoiding that book – which is now over due.

The only thing I’ve gained from the book is a library fine.

Last night during our devotions after supper, Ginny read Psalm 70. It rang a bell for me:

“Make haste, O God, to deliver me. Make haste to help me, O Lord…. I am poor and needy. Make haste unto me, O God. Thou art my help and my deliverer. O Lord, make no tarrying”.

That Scripture reading reminded me of another Psalm, one of King David’s military references (18:29), which says, “For by Thee I have run through a troop; and by my God have I leaped over a wall”.

I suspect that I am my own brick wall.