Crocodile Tears

Have you ever played whack a croc? It’s like crack for the ‘Hungry Hippo’ generation.

Here’s the rules of the game. You’ve got a mallet and a machine with 15 holes in it.  Mallet at the ready, you then wait  for random crocs to stick their heads above the parapet, so you can hammer ‘em back down.

Forget all those interweb playground games.  I’m telling you, big boys hit crocs.

What’s my point? That Jesus is a bit like a spring-coiled reptile? The internet is killing our kiddies?  Things were better in the olden days?  To be honest, I’m not sure.

Well, there’s a tenuous link.  This week has felt a bit like repeatedly being hit over the head with a large object. I haven’t been feeling so hot, but that’s hardly cause for national mourning. My brain’s gone out, all guns blazing, but my body’s wrapped itself round the duvet like a damp noodle.  Rather than accepting this, I’ve fought it every step of the way. My conclusion: I’m either completely fine and it’s a simple case of mind over matter  or I’m literally dyiiiiiing , Everything is Terrible and even Leonard Cohen sounds like KC and the Sunshine Band.

When I get like this, not much helps.  I keep thinking of solutions. I’ll go roller-blading in Brussels.  I’ll eat goji-berries.  I’ll bake hash cookies (JOKE).  I shout abuse at the Apprentice.  Nothing.  So I call up some old friends – Self-pity and Resentment.  Come on over guys – we’re having a bender…!

But then I read this from Psalm 62:

¹For God alone my  soul waits in silence;
from him comes my salvation.
²He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

³How long will all of you attack a man
to batter him,
like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
⁴They only plan to thrust him down from his high position.
They take pleasure in falsehood.
^(I) They bless with their mouths,
but inwardly they curse.

⁵For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
^{6 )} He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
⁷On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock,  my refuge is God.

⁸ Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.

The situation hasn’t changed. My brain still feels like a baggy nappy. But somehow everything looks different.