Fishing on Sabbatical

     Today was an emotional day - one of those days when nothing that I had planned happened.  Underneath all the unexpected shifts, there was a tangible sense that the Holy Spirit had showed up to direct the day.  God was speaking and I was trying to listen.  I was feeling like there was a break through - a break through in the numbness - in the sense of restlessness, in the sense of direction.  This sabbatical was finally starting to mesh.
    And then the most idyllic fishing boat passed right along the lakeside of the house.  I went out to fully take in the majesty of the evening moment.  Sun setting.  Nice boat rigged out with two different motors.  Two happy fisher persons on board.  Even the loon family that likes to frequent the front of our house was there to take in the action.  I went out to the deck to get a closer look, to view, to breathe in this perfect moment that was showing me that all the unexpected changes to my planned events were really a divine act of God.  This was my moment of revelation.  God is here.  God is shining on us all.  
    And then they hit a snag -  right in front of our house.  Suddenly there was a  lot of commotion on this idyllic fishing boat.  The guy at the motor was waving and adjusting.  The person in the orange vest was pointing and obviously upset.   And me - from my upper deck top view -  I was just sad.  What happened to idyllic?  What happened to easy?  What happened to divine revelation?
     I went back in to the house. My God moment had passed and it wasn’t the picture perfect view that I had imagined.  Along with disappointment, there was a bit of anger.  Internally I said, “Come on God.  You could have at least given me this fishing fantasy as a metaphor for life right now!” Inside the house, the sadness reigned again.
    Within a few minutes, they were in sight again.  Over there by another shore, I could see that same fishing boat with the same person in an orange vest.  They were trolling along - still fishing - still enjoy the scenery and the sport.  Before long, they were back in front of the house - and then in the very same spot where they had the snag.  From what I observed, they were  trolling along, moving through the waters, continuing to fish the lake and enjoy whatever happened as part of the experience.  My internal dialogue, however, was different.  “What? Are they crazy to come back here again?  Why would they take that risk?” And then with deeper reflection,   Is this why Jesus used fishing in so many stories?  Perhaps there is something I need to learn about the perseverance and resilience of fisher persons.  
    For me, fishing always brings back memories of my parents. I love the water but when my dad took me fishing, I preferred to read a book in the boat.  There were too many expectations - too many disappointments - too many entanglements.  As a teen, it felt better for me to delve into the world of romantic fantasy than to face all those challenges. Even today,  I have to admit that my desire is often to escape (Thank you Hallmark Channel for making it easy) But the question that consumes me today, is what am I missing?  … perhaps those who persevere… who face off with the snags… who figure out the entanglements.  Sometimes we need to cut the line, even if it means grieving the loss of a good bait.  Sometimes we need to put something new on the hook and throw the line in again.  Sometimes we need to trust that the fish are there but the conditions are not right so we can try again in the morning.   Fisher persons are people who persevere… who trust… and sometimes bring in a great catch.
    Maybe, after all, this was a God moment and a good day - for people who fish and people who watch them.