If I've heard it once, I've heard it at least 150 times. I've heard it when someone I liked in high school started dating another girl, I've heard it when there seemed to be no potential relationship on the horizon and I've heard it when one of my own relationships ended. "There are other fish in the sea," someone says, and I know they mean well, I really do, but that doesn't stop me from cringing every time I hear the words. There are other fish in the sea. Sometimes I respond with "if only I liked fish!" and other times I respond with "there are other fish in the sea because I keep throwing them back!" and then my frustration multiplies out of the sheer desperation of it all. Sometimes I think that there may very well be fish in the sea, but I'm fishing from a puddle and sometimes I look at friends around me getting married and think that the fish must be biting, but they're biting something like exquisite cheddar cheese and all I've got is earthworms (and yes, I've seen fish bite cheddar cheese.)
This week I've been reminded about those elusive fish again, but something a little ironic happened shortly after and I can't help but share it.
I recently bought one of Max Lucado's books called "Next Door Savior." It's been sitting on my table for several weeks and I decided it was high time to start reading it. So I open the book, and there, staring me in the face is a story about Peter, the fisherman. That's right, I said fisherman. And I rolled my eyes at that, too. More fish?! As it turns out, that's what Peter was thinking too (see Luke 5:5). Peter had been out on his fishing boat all night long and hadn't caught a thing. Lucado fleshes the story out enough for me to actually see the frustration and relate to it. Peter had been fishing all night long. I mean, the poor man probably saw everybody around him catching fish, taking fish home, and being able to live off of that, but no matter how many times he let out his nets, they came up empty. I imagine that he might have caught an occasional old and lost shoe, clump of seaweed, or yet another toad - oops sorry, that's my story! - and I imagine that he probably about cried after every false alarm. Finally, he gives up, and rows back to shore. Unsuccessful. Nothing to show for those long, cold, frustrating hours. I feel for Peter because I’m in Peter’s boat.
Then, along comes Jesus and he's actually being crowded off of the shore by huge numbers of people that have come to listen to him. Peter's boat happens to be handy. Jesus asks him to row them off the shore a little bit. Peter is bound to be exhausted, but he does as he's asked. Then Jesus looks at Peter and tells him to "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch."
I've read this story a number of times in my life, but I had never put much thought into how simple that really wasn't. If I were Peter, the last thing I would want to do is put out my nets again. I would have my heart set on just going home and calling in sick. Peter tells Jesus that he's already tried putting out his nets. He's tried it all night and there's nothing to be had. He's dejected, feels rejected and is broken hearted. Again, I feel for Peter because I know what Peter feels. But Peter does something that must have been incredibly difficult. He tells Jesus he'll do as he's asked and he puts out those nets. And he catches more fish than he can haul into the boat.
Great fishing story. But Peter's not through. Fast forward to John 21. Jesus has been laid to rest and here is Peter out on that lonesome fishing boat again. That morning of catching fish when there shouldn't have been any is a memory from a long time ago. It doesn't even matter anymore, because here is Peter and he's fished all night and he's got nothing to show for it. Again. I feel for Peter, because I'm in that same boat.
Here comes Jesus again, too. This time Peter doesn't even recognize Jesus. This strange man calls out to Peter asking him, hasn't he caught any fish? Peter's probably thinking the same thing I am - "if I hear somebody tell me there are fish in this sea one more time-". Jesus tells Peter to throw his nets over the right side of the boat "and you will find some." Once more, Peter does what makes no sense to him at all. There aren't any fish out there. It's humiliating in itself, do we have to make it harder by getting our hopes up again? But he does as he’s told and catches more fish than he can haul into his boat.
Great fishing story. What I would give to have a fishing story like that.
Just a couple of nights ago, I had those stories in mind, but I was on rock bottom again, frustrated and even angry at my current situation. I opened up my bible and I didn't know where to read or what I even needed to read, so I just flipped through the pages, waiting for "chance" to land me on the right page. Flipping, flipping, flipping - hey wait a minute. Go back to that last page. What was that? I turned back and saw scribbles filling up the side of a page and so I read there. It was the story of Paul and darn it if he wasn't out on the open seas. He's in chains because he is on his way to another trial (he's been through several at this point, see Acts 21-30) and the ship he is on is more or less lost at sea, surrounded by a storm threatening to dash them all to pieces. I feel for Paul. I'm in Paul's boat. Now, here's the odd thing. Paul didn't have to be on this boat. He actually could have gotten off scott free back there with King Agrippa and Festus at the last trial but he told them he wanted to tell his story to Caesar (Acts 26:32). Paul chose to go to trial again. He could have taken the easy way out and gone home, but he chose to go through another trial because it needed to be done. Now he's out here about to be shipwrecked and he tells the crew not to get on the lifeboats. He tells them to cut off the anchors. No use in weighing the boat down in place out there in the storm. Then the boat lands on some sandbar of an island he’s probably never heard of and certainly never planned on going to when he planned out what he wanted for his life. Turns out that the island was a good place for Paul to be (Acts 28).
Do you feel like you’re on these boats too? Do you feel like you just don’t have it in you to cast out your net again? Do you feel chained to a ship lost at stormy seas, moving from trial to trial? Jesus knows you’re tired from fruitlessly fishing all night. He says throw out your net again. Jesus knows you feel shipwrecked. Maybe that’s how he’ll get you to the right island.
People tell me there are other fish in the sea. I don’t particularly care to be out on the sea in my little boat and frankly, I’m tired of fishing. But I think that maybe, the good Lord has put some stories in front of me this week to tell me He knows what boat I’m in and thankfully, I’m not in this boat alone.
This week I've been reminded about those elusive fish again, but something a little ironic happened shortly after and I can't help but share it.
I recently bought one of Max Lucado's books called "Next Door Savior." It's been sitting on my table for several weeks and I decided it was high time to start reading it. So I open the book, and there, staring me in the face is a story about Peter, the fisherman. That's right, I said fisherman. And I rolled my eyes at that, too. More fish?! As it turns out, that's what Peter was thinking too (see Luke 5:5). Peter had been out on his fishing boat all night long and hadn't caught a thing. Lucado fleshes the story out enough for me to actually see the frustration and relate to it. Peter had been fishing all night long. I mean, the poor man probably saw everybody around him catching fish, taking fish home, and being able to live off of that, but no matter how many times he let out his nets, they came up empty. I imagine that he might have caught an occasional old and lost shoe, clump of seaweed, or yet another toad - oops sorry, that's my story! - and I imagine that he probably about cried after every false alarm. Finally, he gives up, and rows back to shore. Unsuccessful. Nothing to show for those long, cold, frustrating hours. I feel for Peter because I’m in Peter’s boat.
Then, along comes Jesus and he's actually being crowded off of the shore by huge numbers of people that have come to listen to him. Peter's boat happens to be handy. Jesus asks him to row them off the shore a little bit. Peter is bound to be exhausted, but he does as he's asked. Then Jesus looks at Peter and tells him to "Put out into deep water, and let down the nets for a catch."
I've read this story a number of times in my life, but I had never put much thought into how simple that really wasn't. If I were Peter, the last thing I would want to do is put out my nets again. I would have my heart set on just going home and calling in sick. Peter tells Jesus that he's already tried putting out his nets. He's tried it all night and there's nothing to be had. He's dejected, feels rejected and is broken hearted. Again, I feel for Peter because I know what Peter feels. But Peter does something that must have been incredibly difficult. He tells Jesus he'll do as he's asked and he puts out those nets. And he catches more fish than he can haul into the boat.
Great fishing story. But Peter's not through. Fast forward to John 21. Jesus has been laid to rest and here is Peter out on that lonesome fishing boat again. That morning of catching fish when there shouldn't have been any is a memory from a long time ago. It doesn't even matter anymore, because here is Peter and he's fished all night and he's got nothing to show for it. Again. I feel for Peter, because I'm in that same boat.
Here comes Jesus again, too. This time Peter doesn't even recognize Jesus. This strange man calls out to Peter asking him, hasn't he caught any fish? Peter's probably thinking the same thing I am - "if I hear somebody tell me there are fish in this sea one more time-". Jesus tells Peter to throw his nets over the right side of the boat "and you will find some." Once more, Peter does what makes no sense to him at all. There aren't any fish out there. It's humiliating in itself, do we have to make it harder by getting our hopes up again? But he does as he’s told and catches more fish than he can haul into his boat.
Great fishing story. What I would give to have a fishing story like that.
Just a couple of nights ago, I had those stories in mind, but I was on rock bottom again, frustrated and even angry at my current situation. I opened up my bible and I didn't know where to read or what I even needed to read, so I just flipped through the pages, waiting for "chance" to land me on the right page. Flipping, flipping, flipping - hey wait a minute. Go back to that last page. What was that? I turned back and saw scribbles filling up the side of a page and so I read there. It was the story of Paul and darn it if he wasn't out on the open seas. He's in chains because he is on his way to another trial (he's been through several at this point, see Acts 21-30) and the ship he is on is more or less lost at sea, surrounded by a storm threatening to dash them all to pieces. I feel for Paul. I'm in Paul's boat. Now, here's the odd thing. Paul didn't have to be on this boat. He actually could have gotten off scott free back there with King Agrippa and Festus at the last trial but he told them he wanted to tell his story to Caesar (Acts 26:32). Paul chose to go to trial again. He could have taken the easy way out and gone home, but he chose to go through another trial because it needed to be done. Now he's out here about to be shipwrecked and he tells the crew not to get on the lifeboats. He tells them to cut off the anchors. No use in weighing the boat down in place out there in the storm. Then the boat lands on some sandbar of an island he’s probably never heard of and certainly never planned on going to when he planned out what he wanted for his life. Turns out that the island was a good place for Paul to be (Acts 28).
Do you feel like you’re on these boats too? Do you feel like you just don’t have it in you to cast out your net again? Do you feel chained to a ship lost at stormy seas, moving from trial to trial? Jesus knows you’re tired from fruitlessly fishing all night. He says throw out your net again. Jesus knows you feel shipwrecked. Maybe that’s how he’ll get you to the right island.
People tell me there are other fish in the sea. I don’t particularly care to be out on the sea in my little boat and frankly, I’m tired of fishing. But I think that maybe, the good Lord has put some stories in front of me this week to tell me He knows what boat I’m in and thankfully, I’m not in this boat alone.
3 comments:
Hello Kim, I really enjoyed meeting you at Roundup in Lubbock. Don't need to ask if you remember the one who hi-jacked the Laughter Prayer session. I have truly missed fishing since moving from MS, but have learned that it's impossible to live half in and half out of the boat. Don't know yet where God's wind will blow me or cast me ashore, but the trip is great and "all I have need of, His hand hath provided". Praise Him.
Kim,
I know that it is a bit redundant, but hang in there. There are good men out there who are also looking for good Christian women.
I don't always appreciate God's calendar. But looking back I see where His plan is a much nicer path than the one I try to create for myself.
You did an amazing job last Saturday. I enjoyed listening in on the conversation with your previos teacher. What an amazing person you are. You have accomplished more at this point than most people will accomplish in their whole life.
You are a blessing!
Janie - It was so nice to meet you too and I promise I'm working on getting my presentation emailed to the folks who asked for it (I'm blaming dial-up internet for the complications I'm having, but I will press on!) I've actually been remembering your hi-jack all week and I used to pray one continuous prayer all day a long time ago. You reminded me of it and I've started it again.
Darla - thank you. It was so good to see you in person! I have been praying for you. You hang in there too, okay? :)
And I'm breathing prayers for all singles out there. Let's all remember each other and lift each other up in prayer. "For where two or three gather in His name, there He is also."
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