Some days I am overwhelmed by how amazing life can be. Yet in the very same moment how I can be underwhelmed by the frailty my own thinking.
The reminder came on the back of a really good week. We changed the Sunday worship structure; finally. Got all the kids back to school; just getting to the end of the day sometimes feels like an achievement. Saw my eldest in an open air play that he has been rehearsing for months; proud Dad moment. Enjoyed good food in excellent company. Joined a strange ceremony when the first full time curate (Trainee Vicar) for St Mags since 1978 was ordained at Exeter Cathedral; happy vicar moment. (We even managed an amusing Neo/Matrix Vicar pics.) Then day one with new curate, including deep conversation and spontaneous prayer on the street. Life and work is good, so what would possibly go wrong? Just a phone call and an old mind trip.
Have you ever tried to phone a big company but talk with a specific team. All is fine unless the team concerned are not customer facing, have closed your case and even making a formal compliant does not get you a call back. But to understand the depth of my frustration you need to understand that I am dyslexic.
My other half says that I even have car park dyslexic. Most of you will not understand the issue, but it is a massive problem. There I am zipping down the motorway and all is well, then I turn off to the services and suddenly I have no idea which way to go. The signs and arrows may as well be in a Japanese. I have no idea where I am an most of the family have to give me directions. Five back seat drivers is just what you need when you’re feeling directionless.
But the problem also translates to sort codes. Getting the account number right for a bank transfer is easy, cut, paste, job done. But the sort code is more difficult. You can only put in two digits at a time, so cut and paste seems a waste. But when I type the numbers, I read what I think I have written. (Like anything I publish it is prone to errors.) If I have made an error I don’t see it. Info entered, check by one of the kids (no guilt needed) transfer done….. £700 sent to the wrong account.
I honestly don’t have that kind of money to make an error with, but the frustration comes not with the thought of having messed up, or even having lost a large sum of money but with what happens next.
A few years ago the legislation got changed around faster payments (instant inter bank transfers) in order to protect customers like me. The deal is this, the bank makes a mistake you get the money back, you make a mistake and the bank will help your get the money back. What is more, is there is the protection of the law. If you receive a payment in error into your account then you are legally obliged to return it….. Except that in this case, my bank will not help (Santander), the receiving bank will not help (Barclays) and I found out today that the is no money left in the receivers account anyway. He has spend the flipping lot! No, he has spend money that was intended for a holiday and now I could use to spend on school uniforms and food…..
But is gets worse. I have in fact received a little money back, £35.15. I have even had a letter from Santander telling me so and detailing the case number. So I follow the instructions on the bottom of the letter and give them a call to find out what is going on.
The bloke who answers is helpful enough, but can he put me though to the right team? Getting to speak to his manger was easy. Manager one is friendly but clearly knows nothing, so I pressed for her manager, this is a bit more difficult. We get there after some sharp words. Manager level two is highly trained in shutting customers down but now I am on a roll and demand to speak to the team who wrote to me. He makes a school boy error and gives me flannel about the issues I am facing, trying to tell me definitively what has happen. I know he can’t do this and he is making it up. So I press in and finally speak to “Em”’ the manager of managers managers. It is clear that this is a far as I am going to get today. How can you tell? Because this one of not afraid of the silence. Em is not going to hang up, or give me what I want or lose his cool. But then it happens. The mind trip.
Suddenly I am in front of my bank manger as a student. He is telling me that they are withdrawing their banking services and I will have to repay my student overdraft with in the week. Power shifts, and the mind causes me to stumble. Extreme frustration over my error and a corporate system designed for profit rather than customer satisfaction connects with events from over twenty years ago. My mind trips out.
I sat. I journaled. I read internet tech news. I help my youngest with 11+ prep. I walked the dogs. I eat good food. I prayed. I tried. But my mind got me, tripped me up, took me back to being that young man in the bank and I was overwhelmed.
A few hours later and I am at peace again. Sure of who I am, comfortable with my failings and resigned to my error. But also reminded that I (as I’m sure are you) am never far away from the my old mind trips. So tonight I pray, more than ever that I would be transformed by the renewing of my mind. That my loving Heavenly Father would heal and shape my thinking so that I can live in wonder of who he is and what his is doing.