A: Keep Fishing

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They struggled all night through the dark and frustration. How many times did they lower their nets only to pull them back empty? At what point did hope turn to doubt, and doubt to angst?

Isn’t life like that, full hopes vanish into empty nets?

With visions of a secure future, we lower our hopes into the deep. We know, without doubt, our prize is down there. And oh what a prize, the trophy meant to secure our future and settle our stature.

Once, twice, three times we pull the nets back, each turn a blow to out resolve. Our ego springs into action and buoys our sinking hope. We remind ourself ‘anything worth doing is hard’ and ‘and empty nets are part of the process.’

We shift out stance, change form, run the numbers in our minds, anything to justify our continued search for the elusive prize. Day churns into night, and the horizon to the East begins to lighten. Day is coming, and we are empty handed.

The new day brings only pain. They know we are out here, striving to find our reward. Public failure is the worst. It’s only human nature to back a winner, and we lost. The empty net is a failure resonating through out lives.

Even in this humiliation wisdom exists, when we let Him into the boat. Against our will, He asks for trust. Even more, He asks us- tired and weary- to go back out into the deep.

Here is the breaking point for most of us. When we are at our end, empty and exhausted, He asks for more, He asks us to have faith. It is a faith we don’t believe we have.

Out of shear deference to His request, we turn back to the sea. We lower our nets unaware of what is happening. This isn’t about prizes or fish, it’s about God showing us He’s God. Faith isn’t a feeling or super power, it’s in the doing.

Soon, we behold the harvest only possible in His presence- nets full beyond our ability to contain them. And this is where we begin our tale.

From faith we find He has a purpose meant just for us. Whatever we were will inform the higher destiny of what we become.

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A: Love Reveals Purpose

I once wondered blind, straining to hear kind voices.

My hands cut off and eyes removed, my only option was to follow the direction of the voices down one empty road and up another. I dragged my heart behind me, refusing to touch it. It was ugly. Dust and muck and crusty memories clung to me. On I marched, in search of rest from my filthy condition.

My hopes stood on the shoulders of the voices. Oh what sweet voices they were. Warm, encouraging, well-intentioned voices. And they belonged to warm, encouraging, well- intentioned men and women. Giving people. Compassionate people. Yet every map they gave and every encouragement made led to the another dead end.

I hold not a sin against them for their efforts. I asked and they answered as well as their wisdom allowed.

Eventually my search took me beyond secure into risk. The wisdom in this venture was not in the doing but in the being. As I sat at this table, crippled as always, I found no solace or purpose, my heart tucked up under my chair. The longer I sat at the table the more I battled to remain. In my mind I played a game. Should I win this game, then, and only then, might I have the chance to rest. To heal. To be me. No. I had to stay glued to my seat. I had to win this game.

Day after day, I slogged my way back to the table. Night after night, I meditated on whether I should return. Having traveled enough roads, and sat at many tables, I knew I didn’t have the heart to win this game.

Late one evening, I found myself looking into a mirror, drawn by the One who is the mirror. Obvious for the first time to me then, as it may be to you, is I indeed have eyes. And hands. And my heart is where it need be, in my chest. The layers of grime and shame gone. What was this? A trick? All of my life was, until that moment, a series of failed journeys and disappointment.

Then the Mirror began to speak. Having nothing left and no where to go, I listened.

“I love you. I am in love with you. And I command you to love you as I love you. Look at yourself through my eyes- not broken or used up. You are beautiful and strong. Brave and creative. Relax. Let your feet follow me, and I will give you the Peace and Joy you want.”

All the voices faded into silence as I carefully considered the Lord’s offer. I studied the choices in my head. The streets I traveled, I knew. I knew their promises and the danger in believing in such promises, and the tables they led to. What the God of Love and Grace offered me was a chance to be me, to cut my own path.

So here I sit, powered by love, chopping my way through another day. I no longer walk the paved roads of another’s calling. I no longer listen to the kind voices of my friends. Through love and devotion, I found my way. My beautiful heart is finally at peace.

Around the First Turn

I’m not sure what happened or how, but yesterday I turned a small but significant corner in my heart. And that corner is called “Sense of Purpose.” 

Last January, I thought I knew what the next 5-10 years of life would be, mostly cooking BBQ and hopefully her. In less than five months it was all gone, and necessarily gone. The Lord has something better for me, for my heart and mind.

Since May, I’ve wondered what direction my life is headed. The first week in June, I started to get anxious on the question of my career, whatever those are. Once I put it before the Lord, a path into digital marketing opened up, and I took it. It’s going well so far, but it is not my resting place.

Another question put to me by a few folks is “are you going to stay in Redding?” It’s a valid question, and the short answer is still yes. Why would I leave? Community is important to be, vital even. Big cities are unappealing, and every place has its flaws. I want to be around people I can love and be loved by on a daily basis. 

(The long answer to where I’ll settle has to do with a future wife. I want to make room for a life with someone, and for me it includes being open to living in another city. To be clear, I do not want to leave, but I may.)

Yesterday, while I worked on an oil pastel drawing, I felt nothing. The good nothing. The present nothing. The peaceful nothingness that comes from focus and enthusiasm. No feeling or thoughts, just doing. I loved it and crave more. 

In that wonderful moment, my creativity opened up, and I could see with more clarity the path my art creation is headed. My motivation shot way, way up. As proof, I haven’t done a thing today, and I don’t want to work on marketing projects. I want to create. It’s not about being famous or wealthy, it’s about letting out whatever is inside. Because whatever is inside me is good. 

A river is pouring out of my chest, a previously damned river. And I aim to let it run. 

Today, August 13th, I could care less about where I’ll live or how to make money. I give those to God the way Jesus said when I promised “seek first the Kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you.” 

I can’t wait to get home and create.