Ping Pong Over the Abyss (Graces and Mercies)


The first person who can identify where I got the title of this post gets bonus points. Yeah, I’m looking at you, Denni Caid…

Just about any Christian man loves David. There is something about his life that appeals to men who love the Lord. It might be that the account of David and Goliath is one of the first times that a young realizes that there are action heroes in Bible. Looking at David:

Courage? Check
Great warrior? Check
Success? Check
Gifted musically? Check.
Revered by a nation? Check
Knew God intimately? Check

What’s not to like? It’s as if God plotted David’s life in a way that would resonate powerfully with men. I’ve been getting more in tune with David, but not the part that most men want to think about.

The past 2-3 weeks, it feels like my spirit has been a ping-pong ball. I keep volleying between hopefulness and hopelessness:

*serve* Ian’s getting better

*ping* He’s still having problems swallowing

*pong* The mood swings have stopped

*ping* His hair is falling out

*pong* Ian’s laugh is back to normal

*ping* A close friend inadvertently says something callous

*pong* More and more friends encourage us

*ping* We hear about other children who have lost this same battle

*pong* Ian’s oncologist gives us a glowing report, saying that we should plan on him attending first grade with the rest of his class

*ping* When he lays down for the night, before I have finished tucking him in, there is blood on his pillow from the sores on his ears

For every *pong* of good news, the enemy uses a *ping* of bad news as a weapon against our hearts. I think that’s why Psalm 42 has been resonating with me. David sees the back-and-forth pattern that his spirit is in, and every so often, talks truth to himself:

5Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and 6my God

This is the kind of man that I’m trying to be, sometimes successfully. It’s as if David is saying to himself, Snap out of it! My God is still on His throne, and I’m going to praise him, no matter what my circumstances are. The kicker is that he has to do this again, and again. After he’s shaken himself, he does praise the Lord, in verse eight:

by day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me-
a prayer to the God of my life

By verse nine, he’s lamenting his condition again. However, in verse 11, he’s realized where he’s at, and is repeating the same instructions to himself. If you follow through chapter 43, David does the same thing, verbatim!

Someone who hasn’t been there might ask, Doesn’t this guy learn? But that’s what I’m going through as well. Last night was one of those evenings when I could not find the words to express the anguish my soul was feeling. All I could do was read verses 5 and 11 repeatedly, and tell myself That’s where I need to be.

As the waves of despair start coming in, instead of playing a defensive game by reminding myself of the good things that are happening to Ian, I need to play “close to the net” and immediately remind myself that My God is still on His throne, and I am going to praise Him, in good times and bad. Does that mean that I won’t ever grieve? Heavens, no. It just means that I don’t have to stay grieving.

By the way, I talked with Deb a few minutes ago. She met with the head of the radiation therapy team, who had nothing but glowing words to say about Ian and his progress. *pong*

  1. #1 by Pablo on July 19th, 2008

    Yikes!

    I hope that I wasn’t the close fried that said something callous. Sometimes I’m a bit oblivious like that.

    *sigh*

    Thomas, get out of my head! I don’t know how many times I have had this same kind of conversation, albeit with slightly different topspin.

    We all want to be David with the Goliath story but without the Uriah/Bathsheba (spelling?) subplot. We want to be unshakable in our belief that God will protect and defend us against assault from outside ourselves, but we constantly get tripped up when the assault comes from within ourselves. We feel confident with God’s help in wielding the weapons of this world against obvious adversaries, but we falter so quickly in wielding the weapons of God’s world (primarily prayer) in spiritual warfare.

    It may not always be so, but more days than not, the real test is the war within ourselves against ourselves, or against the portions that we least like to acknowledge–greed, fear, lust, anger, pride. St. Paul bids us put to death all that is not Christ in ourselves so that we might find Christ waiting for us in the end.

    It’s never easy, but as a wise man once said, sometimes the victory is in the struggle itself, not the outcome.

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