Are you watching Olympic swimming?? What EMOTION! – cheering crowds, straining adrenaline saturated swimmers … all layered on top of meticulous ORDER – lanes, timers, judges. And last but not least, there is the water. It is positively churning at the end of every race. How long will it take to become quiet again? I have no idea. But I know it’s more than seconds.

Just like emotions.

For instance. Let’s keep the water idea. Picture a swimmer, on a raft, on a lake. A nice lake. (it’s possible I am overdue for some water time) You can even picture an iced Coke in one hand and a good book in the other. Next thing you know, a speed boat zooms by. (because we don’t have to pay for it, let’s make it a Ski Nautique – top of the line) Now you’ve got a rafter riding waves. But they’re only coming from one direction. The book is probably wet. But hey, they wouldn’t even BE out on this raft if they didn’t know how to take a few waves. That’s just life.

Want to make it pertinent to me? Have that speed boat come BACK, and for reasons we may NEVER know, drive in multiple circles around this once-restful raft. Waves everywhere, criss-crossing, churning turbulence. I think it’s safe to say there is no more Coke or book. In fact, given the chaos, there’s confusion, maybe choking.

That’s how I feel sometimes when my bipolar mate starts going in circles, emotionally doubling back, changing directions.

This morning I asked Jesus, “can You give me a picture of where YOU are in this picture?”

I’m seeing the water, the waves, me … and the next thing that comes to mind is a rock. OK, biblical “rock” references are obvious. Never overlook the obvious.

Suppose there is a low flat ROCK in this lake, and this rafter (me) has found it (thankyou Jesus), and is standing on the rock while this boat goes round and round. Still getting wet, but otherwise securely grounded. Waves don’t rock a rock.

All good, but I got the distinct impression from Jesus the size of my rock mattered. Sooo, I go there with Him. What would my emotions feel like if my rock were TALLER? He’s got a point. The taller the rock, the smaller the waves look/feel to me. The less stress I feel.

There. Better.

And that was the picture Jesus left me with this morning. As my personal Rock of Ages, He’s as tall as I need Him to be.

“If I should say, ‘my foot has slipped,’ Your lovingkindness, O Lord, will hold me up.

When my anxious thoughts multiply within me, Your consolations delight my soul…

the LORD has been my stronghold, and my God THE ROCK of MY REFUGE.”

Ps 94:18,22

Wet, dizzy, but grounded,

Joan