Teaspoons

I’m not positive what a sump pump looks like.

Let me explain:

I’ve only been close to one once, (that I know of). It was in the crawl space under a house I used to live in. Directly under my bedroom, incidentally. I know this because for several months after I moved in the roommate who owned the house would ask, “have you heard the sump pump running?” after periods of heavy rain. I started to get embarrassed that my response was always a deer-in-headlights look so I started to pay attention. Before long I was giving regular reports on this mystical object:

Me: “Heard the sump pump running a couple times last night.”

Roommate: “…ok. It wasn’t raining.”

Aaaaaand scene.

Given my general lack of knowledge about all things sump pump related I was very surprised one evening when a mysterious alarm went off and my friend and landlord jumped up and ran for the side door. It was unclear to me why she was running towards the outdoors and freezing rain that had been falling all day until she yelled, “It’s the sump pump” over her shoulder.

It had already been a weird day. We were sitting in the living room under piles of blankets in candlelight trying to stay warm in a house that had been without power for several hours at that point. So to end up army crawling in the aptly named “crawl” space was not that far of a stretch based on our current luck. I had always sworn I would never, ever go into that crawl space. Being someone who has an abnormally amplified curse for attracting spiders it’s almost irresponsible–nay, fool hardy–to go willingly into locations where they tend to congregate.

The work was laborious: my friends bailing out rainwater with plastic cups into only slightly bigger Tupperware, me army crawling the length of the house with the container to the rickety steps, likely spilling half of it on the way. And then out into the freezing rain and dumped onto the driveway to become tomorrow’s ice patch/slipping hazard. After what seemed like an hour (but, lets be honest, was probably 20 minutes) I got the bad news from my friend. It was useless. Each cup bailed out was instantly refilled. Without power the pump was useless and the water level was stuck at overflowing.

Because I promised to give you an excessive amount of extended metaphors if you read this blog maybe you already see where I’m going with this. Sometimes–ok, often–I feel like my heart is a well reserve of dirty rainwater. No, that’s not a strong enough adjective. I’m talking about the poison of bitterness, anger, envy, pride, fear, comparison, and self-loathing. It’s vile, putrid, viscous, and it rots me from the inside.

I’m really trying to get rid of it, this filthy, metaphorical, rainwater. I have a nice checklist of things to do. I pray every morning (if I wake up on time). I read the bible every night (if I’m not too busy with “life” things). I practice “self-care” when my thoughts are becoming anxious or depressed. For example, I work out about 4 times a week–ok 3 times a week (ish). Or I sit quietly and read or listen to God (if I’m not on my phone or watching netflix). You get the idea.

Sometimes, when I’m really, really good I can feel myself making progress. I feel great. Accomplished. Like someone who has life together enough to be a lifestyle blogger.

For like a day. Tops.

But it’s not enough. It’s never good enough. Sometimes I feel like I am getting rid of the rainwater little by little, bailing out with teaspoons. Meanwhile the sludgy filth is pouring back in like a breached damn, gallon upon gallon, and I am drowning.

I think the root of the problem is that I am usually shooting for empty. I’m trying to empty the garbage faster than it gets filled, but that’s not how life works. The world is too broken and I am too insufficient. I’m stuck at overflowing. It’s reminds me of the parable of the of the unclean spirit in Matthew 12:43-45. The spirit is cast out of the person but when it comes back to find the “house” empty it moves right back in with seven of it’s more evil friends!

This is where the sump pump metaphor breaks down, by the way. Because, from my limited understanding of sump pumps, I believe the goal is empty. But that’s just not possible for us. For better or worse we are vessels. We can be full of the sin an suffering that comes with seeking the treasures of the world or we can be full of the pure, fresh, life-giving water of God’s word and his presence.

I am working on being full to overflowing with the right things, specifically God’s living water. I’m trying to fill my day with time in prayer and meditating on God’s word first before it gets filled up by other things. But I’m not good at it.

It’s so silly because when I am disciplined to do this it changes the other things I choose fill my day with. They are sweeter and more constructive. You would think that would be enough motivation, right? But it’s not. I wish it was as easy as just knowing the right thing to do…but it’s not.