Say When

Jun 1 / Jenny Gehman
My husband was uncomfortably full, to put it mildly. Having traveled to Europe for work, he found himself in a large German church on his first Sunday morning. Following their service, he was invited to stay for a feast of a fellowship meal. Knowing he’d face a four-hour journey into France later that day, my husband ate his fill. 

What he didn’t know at that time was that his host family, awaiting his arrival in France, had spent that very same day in their kitchen, diligently preparing a traditional seven-course meal to welcome him.

Taking a seat at their table, and still unsuspecting of what lay ahead, he ate the two pieces of quiche offered as the meal began. As that was cleared away, he mistakenly thought he was finished. The meal’s end, however, would not come for an additional three and a half hours. 

Out came the soup and the bread. Then, homemade pasta and meat. After those were cleared away, salad was placed on his plate. Then cheeses, followed by fruit and nuts. 

By the time this was all topped off with coffee and cookies, my dear husband was literally bursting at the seams. He said he was so uncomfortable he could not lie down to sleep. All he could do was pace the upstairs hallways back and forth and back once more. 

I know this feeling in a metaphorical way. Know what it’s like to think I’ve portioned things correctly, only to have life keep dishing out more. Know the after-effect of consuming more than I can handle with little time to rest and digest. 

I’m reminded of when I was a child, and my parents would pour my drink or put food on my plate, instructing me to “say when.” When meaning stop, no more, that’s enough. It was my responsibility, my choice as to how much I allowed to fill my plate or cup. I was in charge of portion control. I long for those days!

While it’s true that sometimes, in some ways, I still get to do that, I am aware that weighing options, choosing wisely, and saying when doesn’t always stop the piling up of what life’s doling out. We are not always in control. 

In Mark 6, we find Jesus and his disciples with full plates and no time to eat. The disciples had just returned from a ministry trip, stuffed to the gills with miraculous stories. Simultaneously, John the Baptist had been beheaded, and Jesus himself had suffered an early attempt on his life by those in his own hometown (Luke 4:29). Add to the mix that so many people were coming and going, there literally wasn’t time for them to eat. A plate full of goodness, grief, close calls, and chaos had been served up, with absolutely no time to digest any of it. 

That’s when Jesus said when. 

In the midst of the mayhem, he gathered his disciples and invited them out. He had a solitary spot in mind where they could rest and digest all they’d just swallowed whole.

But we know the story, don’t we? They said when. Said no more! Said they simply and surely could not. They drew their boundaries like the best of them, but: While the boat carried Jesus and the disciples away, the people gave chase on foot. Five-blessed-thousand of them, plus more. 

Life does this sometimes. Keeps piling our plates when we’re already uncomfortably full. Like my husband, like the disciples, we don’t always get to say when. Life is not always doled out in bite-sized bits. 

Say when. Say it as a spiritual practice. Say it loud, say it clear. But if and when your best-laid boundaries fail, know this: Jesus will be there with compassion, care, and the resources that will help us to bear.  

For Further Reflection: 
  • Take some time to simply observe, in a non-judgmental way, that which is on your plate. You might draw a picture of it, labeling each item there, noticing its size and weight. 
  • Consider what, of late, you’ve had to swallow whole.
  • Ponder what, if anything, to which you can say when. 
  • What practices help you to rest and digest after particularly full seasons? 

Jenny Gehman
Jenny Gehman is a spiritual director, freelance writer and retreat facilitator. She was trained as a music therapist, but hospitality is her heartbeat. She is a firm believer in the wild, wide-open, warm-hearted welcome of God, our “Holy Host,” and believes it is at God’s table we are healed and made whole.

Jenny lives in the Amish Country of Pennsylvania with her husband, son, and usually a visitor or two. She enjoys crackling fires, classical music, and chocolate of the darkest variety.

You can learn more about Jenny and sign up to receive her weekly Little Life Words by visiting her website: http://www.jennygehman.com