Not Responding. Those two words seem to be the phrase of the day. I spent an aggravating hour, on and off, trying to reach the mortgage company to find out how to proceed with taking care of an issue. First, I waited in line on hold only to have the operator never pick up after 10 rings. I tried twice with same result. Finally dialed another number and got a response but forgot to clarify one thing. Started over and was sent to the same person’s voicemail that has not returned my last 3 voicemails…still not responding.
I went to the garage to see about mowing the yard. My tires all loose air, so I have to pump them up before I start every time. I pumped them up, but one tire looked suspiciously out of kilter. I backed the mower up a bit and my fears were confirmed. No matter how much air I tried to put in the tire, it was not responding. It had come off its rim.
Just now I decided I should just work on grading papers until I could get someone to assist me with the rim and downloaded a file. When I tried to open it, Word was not responding.
I was afraid to touch my knitting at that point, or anything else for that matter.Needless to say, I was getting very frustrated, but a thought occurred to me. I wonder how many times God has sent me a message or given me a task to do, and I was not responding. How many times has he left a voicemail that was un-returned, tried to work with stubborn material, or had his commands ignored? I’m not sure I want to know the answer.