flavorless, tasteless, and oh-so-vital.

                                                        

People talk about emotions coming in waves, or bursting forth like a busted dam, or feeling like they're drowning... there's something about water. 

On one hand, as most (all?) of the elements, water can be tragically and frightfully dangerous. It has been the death or damage to many a person, home, or livelihood. Floods, strong storms (we say gully-washers here in the South), backyard pools, bathtubs...innocuous usually, but the water in each of these scenarios has the potential to yank life away, or at the very least, alter it significantly.  Lack of the precious stuff, too, can be detrimental. So yeah- not always a great thing, this water business.

So according to the interwebs, one site says that water is an inorganic and tasteless/ odorless, nearly colorless substance... vital for all forms of life even though it has no calories or nutritional value.

Funny, we have to have this stuff that provides NOThing to us, nutrient-wise. It's life-giving. Sustaining. Necessary. 

And essentially empty.

I find that fascinating.

Our bodies are mostly liquid, we're housed in water while we hang out in our mama's bellies, and- lord have mercy- we just want to sit on a beach or a mountain porch and just breathe in all the sense-fillers of misty air, salty or not. We swim, drink, bathe, fight (hello, water balloons and squirt guns...), cook, wash, clean, paint, etc. etc... all with our friend H2O.

                                           

It's one of my most favorite things (as it is lots of people's, I'm sure); it can be this crazy peaceful washy covering, it's cleansing (literally and figuratively), it's super representative of Christ (you know, THE Living Water, baptism and all that... ), and it's honestly really pretty. Oceans- pale clear and deep dark; bubbly creeks chittering over perfect pebbles; waterfalls that can deafen ears and awaken souls; ripply lake water smacking wet kisses onto the khaki shore... even when I turn on the hose to wash out gross empty trash bins, it's like cold sparkly clean finding its way through the rocks in the driveway, carrying grime with it, leaving a trail of temporary shine. 

So why do we link our emotions, our feelings, our mood rises and falls, to water? Why do we liken visceral reactions and responses to a blah liquid that has none? This is a rhetorical question; my intelligence does not afford me the ability to delve into the potentials of that pondering, in any way. I'm just speculating. Wonder why that is. Why we default to water-words when our souls are rocked, why "weighty" or "big feelings" (good or bad) equate to "drowning," why being in love- to me- is submersive, "swimmy," even, and we select terms like "floating," "swimming," "dive in," "crashing," "pounding," when describing the big stuff.

                                                        

Or maybe it's not "we." 

"Me," perhaps?

In my head, I'm always in or surrounded by some body of water when faced with big, when I've got stuff going on, when things are- well- swimmy.

Could just be a Jenny thing. I'm a water person. I love it, I always have. I swam as a wee babe- before I walked; I've coveted a waterside existence my entire 47 years; I thrived at summer camp where the waterfall static blurred with screen-door slams, and I carry the frosty-cold rockslide music in my memories still. If I dream at night, most of the time there's some sort of significant aqueous component to my sleep-cinema. You'll find sea toordles and ocean waves on repeat in both my home and in my classroom; there's nothing like the bubble purr of aquatic ambience- for teaching high school or for rocking a crabby one year-old. The best is when I have calming Christian meditation music with some water-whisper in the background... 

So yes. Water. 

Lamentably, however, I'm in a dam phase of late. Mountain springs of goings-on gurgle, spilling forth experiences of life-elixir. Sentience trickles downhill, picking up various treasures on its path, toward an unknown downstream destination- a lake, perhaps the ocean someday? Anticipation building, looking forward, "sallying forth" as my aunt used to say. 

And then it quits. Blocked. Something is in the way. That stuff cannot get where it wants to. It's stuck.

Or, let's use a bit of a grosser image- a plumbing clog. Grime, scum, hair, poo, tp, and shudder-to-think what else... all that junk renders the pipes useless. 

In both of these situations, the supply/ feeder has no problem doing its thing. Pour, pour, feed, feed. But nothing- ne'ery a trickle- is seen on the out-flow end. There's nothing happening except building up, clumping together, clogging. Stopping. 

Here's where I am (sorry- it took a minute to get here...): life is happening. Life is pouring in. Life is sallying forth- as it does- but there's this massive clog somewhere... I don't know if it's my heart or my spirituality or my soul or my brain (oh gosh I hope not- I've done that before, I'd rather not go through it again...) or what... it's like this constant influx of the things, but nowhere for them to go.  I honestly feel like I've got all these bigs inside, all these words and emotions and plans and ideas and sads and happies... but they're just balling up and balling up... they won't come out. They won't. Stupid hairball. Damn dam. 

And what happens when water sits and doesn't move? 

It stinks. It stagnates. It molds, it mildews, it slimes. 

I don't want to get there. Gross water is- you guessed it- gross. I want the "out" to happen, but I want it to happen well. I want to be able to filter and process what's coming in so that there's a healthy on the other side. Good, clean water is supposed to be just that: good and clean. Full of the best kind of nothing. Good, clean water is also supposed to be transparent. Light. Absence of darkness. Brackish and stagnant yields rot-stinky clogs, and I want my life to be anything but that. 

Anybody got a plunger?

It's probably blasphemous to liken Christ to the rubber tool we cram into a bowlful of human excrement to get the water flowing again. It's probably not-too-biblical to compare our Lord and Savior to a pipe snake (snakes being super Satan-symbolic and all... also, how's that for some alliteration?!?), or to say we can think of our Abba and His beautiful gift of salvation as somewhat of a genie janitor, poised and ready to pop out of his mystical mop bucket, able to grant all your blockage wishes. Divine Drāno, He is not. 

                                       

But there's a reason we baptize. Even our Jesus, the guy who is the walking God Himself, the dude that's way more than just a dude, was dunked. Went down, hair wet, swimmy and submerged, all the way under. John's brow furrowed a bit at the request to baptize Jesus- by Christ Himself- but when The Dude asks, I'm guessing you just do it. They went to the river. This was not as Nicodemus thought when he questioned man's ability to crawl back into his mama's birthy bits- not that kind of born again- silly Nicodemus. No no, Jesus didn't require "rebirth;" He hadn't sinned, He didn't need to "start over," or "turn away" from anything. He did show all of humanity, however, as John did, obedience and example. He submitted to His Father, and started His ministry with the symbolic washing, showing us all what water can do. Showing us all- by beautiful and obedient example- the power of cleansing; first by his baptism in the river, and ultimately with His blood on the cross.

Flavorless? Tasteless? Nah, this stuff will change you. 

                                                      

Water is "vital for all forms of life," according to Wikipedia, and myriad other definitions; this is true, in so many ways. When we're stuck, clogged, drowning, can't breathe, overwhelmed... any of the life stuff that keeps us from where we need/ want to go, we've got to remember - and I have to remind myself on the regular- we have way more than a plunger, y'all. In a way, we do have Divine Drāno (I know, that's terrible...). We just have to really, really use it. Read, pray, dive in, submerge. Wash, drown even, in Him. Best lifeguard ever, friends. 

He'll save you; He did me.