Thursday, October 4, 2012

35 PSI - Pressure, Seriously, Intense

"The car's tire needs air," said my husband as I was about to drive away. I was late and feeling a little rushed.
"HUH?" I asked, not knowing which tire, how much air and where do I do this. I don't think I've ever put air into a car tire before, bicycle yes, car no. I must have looked confused, because my husband rolled his eyes at me.
"If you don't do it tonight, that means I have to do it at 2:30am tomorrow morning."
"I'll do it," I said, "but where and how much air?" I looked at the clock on the dashboard of my little Toyota Corolla and sighed. I had 05 minutes to get to where I needed to be and it was a 15 minute drive to get there.
"Can I do it after? I'm late."
"Yes. Save-On-Gas, the air is free and 35 PSI."
"Okay, remember the number 35." I said out loud. My husband heard me and wrote a number 35 in the dust on the front hood of the car. This was last Tuesday, it may still be there?

All evening I was wondering what PSI stood for:
- Pretty, sound, information
- Possible, serious, impression
- Pretentious, state of impatience

Nothing I came up with had anything remotely to do with air and how it goes into a tire. Now, I was tired. It had been one of those long days, actually, long months truth be told and I was feeling a little run down. Perhaps, just as flat as my tire. I was running low and avoiding the place where I could fill up again.
I stopped reading the Bible, I stopped praying everyday, I stopped going to church and I avoided other Christians as best I could. Why? Perhaps, because I didn't want them to see why I was so down in the dumps. Maybe, because I didn't want to have to explain it and I didn't want to be known as a complainer and a constant whinnier. I just wanted it to go away.
I had a string of bad luck all summer long and I was not coping with it well. In fact I was a little angry with the big guy upstairs, too. Why was God doing this to me? I felt like an Egyptian in the time of Moses.
"It's supposed to come in 3's!" I yelled out. Were up to 8 or 9 now.
Does anyone have some  Lambs blood to put over my door before the 10th plague hits us?

For the last couple of months I have felt like I've been under some seriously intense pressure.

Hey... PSI (Pressure, Seriously, Intense), that's what PSI stands for! PSI was my malady. Now, what's the cure?

That evening after my appointment, I rolled into Save-On-Gas. I checked the pressure on the flat tire, it was at 20 PSI. Then, I placed the air hose thingy on the wheel thing-a-ma-bob to fill the tire. A few moments later I noticed the tire looked flatter. I checked the pressure again. It was down to 10 PSI. WHAT?
"Isn't it supposed to go up in pressure when filling it?"
"Mom, do you want me to ask the attendant?"
"No, no... I'll figure it out... give me a few moments." A few moments passed and it was now down to 5 PSI.
"What the heck is going on! The thingy and the thing-a-ma-bob were connected properly!" The PSI inside me was building. My daughter ignored her stubborn Mother and went in to ask the attendant about the air hose and why our tire was getting flatter instead of fuller.
"It should work now Mom, try again." It seemed the air hose generator was turned off for the night. In a few minutes the tire was up to 35 PSI and my PSI was released.

The cure for a high PSI level is not a stubbornness to fix it yourself. It's asking for help. And, if you can't ask for it yourself, to have someone in your life bold enough to ask for you.

May God fill you with strength to be able to let go and ask for help, and may he surround you with bold and loving people.

Thank-you God!


PS: PSI is a unit of pressure - pounds per square inch

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