Connections

I am going fishing

Choices, Connections, Faith, Fear
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The water lapped at the feet of the ruddy-faced men who stood at the edge of the Sea of Tiberias. Normal bantering and fast movements pushed aside, they gazed at the horizon, uncertain of what to do next.

Peter slowly turned to face the others and quietly announced,

“I am going fishing.”

His fishermen friends looked at one another and then answered,

“We will also come with you.”

Picking up their fishing net, they dragged it to their nearby boat. Mustering all the inner strength they could find, they tried to put their hearts into another day of fishing.

A few years before, they had left their nets and followed Jesus willingly. Every time they observed scales falling from the eyes of blind people, and watched Jesus straighten crippled limbs, their faith grew stronger. Even though their bodies were weary at the end of long days, their hearts were filled with purpose.

Now, through a terrifying series of events, they had lost their best friend, their leader, and the one whose footsteps they had followed. Everything had changed. They were alone.

All they knew to do was push away from the shore. Fishing was familiar. Surely they would bring in their daily quota.

By the end of the day, however, they were heading to shore with an empty boat. Disappointment and bewilderment welled up inside of them. What had they done wrong? They’d been fishing almost their whole lives…until Jesus came along.

Two questions lingered in their weary minds: “How will we survive without Him? What are we supposed to do?”

Suddenly, a man appeared on the beach and spoke to them gently.

“Children, you do not have any fish, do you?
Cast the net on the right-hand side of the boat,
and you will find a catch.”

With nothing to lose, they followed the man’s instruction. Soon, 153 fish flopped around in their net. Without a doubt, they knew this man was the Lord.

Jesus knew the fear that gripped their hearts and the despair that shouted, “You have no future.” He was about to reveal a new plan.

Jesus had a charcoal fire waiting for them when they came to land. He said,

“Bring some of the fish which you have now caught.
Come and have breakfast.”

They eagerly settled in beside him. As He began serving them, they remembered the words He had spoken during His earlier appearance:

 “Peace be with you; as the Father has sent Me, I also send you.”

He then breathed on them and said,

“Receive the Holy Spirit.”

There on that beach, His disciples realized Jesus was giving them a new call, a personal call. Equipped with the power of the Holy Spirit and infused with new purpose, they left their nets once again and walked by faith into their own ministries of preaching the gospel and bringing souls into God’s kingdom.

As I read this familiar Bible passage*, I pondered what my own future would look like. When the doors of confinement are flung open, would I return to “fishing as usual,” or would I choose to leave my safety net—my familiar, normal way of living—and walk into God’s future for me?

I decided I don’t want to backtrack. I’ve asked God to help me preserve my new lifestyle that has evolved out of COVID-19.

The most special part is having unlimited time to meet with God in the mornings and talk to Him throughout the day. I’ve been able to slow down, relax and guard against my usual hectic pace. I feel pleasure, rather than guilt, whenever I have a long lunch on my porch. Interestingly, even with this slower pace, I’ve made significant progress on my writing goals and other priorities, and even tackled a needed reorganization project.

I’m enjoying people more. A nightly bike ride around my condo complex with a friend gives me needed physical exercise while also opening a way to know my neighbors better and meet new ones. The four of us on my side of the building have shared food, checked up on each other, and shared laughter and words of encouragement. We were close before, but nothing like this.

While being cooped up, I’ve frequently talked with my nieces, nephews, cousins, and personal friends. I’m on a roll, and I want to keep going.

Because we can’t congregate as a church family, our leaders have developed new touchpoints for us during the week, in addition to the services streamed online. Isn’t it exciting that more people are viewing church services now than ever before?

You probably have your own list of positive results. Many of you parents have developed creative family times inside your homes. While your children engage in online learning, you’ve found ways to encourage their teachers. Families and individuals have stepped forward and packed food bags to deliver to frontline people.

Even after we’re free to roam wherever we want, we can keep giving these gifts to others: kindness, gratitude, understanding, empathy, a listening ear, words of hope, and assurance that God loves them and has a good future planned for them.

Let’s preserve those things that have produced new values in us and changed our perspectives on life. Let’s walk away from our nets—our familiar way of living—and step into the new lifestyle God has prepared for us.

In addition to the wonderful parts of your lives that were in place before COVID-19, what new things do you want to continue doing?


*The Bible story is based on the book of John, chapter 21.

Slices of Time

Choices, Connections, Life, Loss
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What is the hardest thing for you to give up on a daily basis?

For me, it’s my time. Since I’m a planner, it’s a continual challenge to release time to spend with people and get involved with things outside my agenda. In the past, I gave more priority to my projects than to people.

However, in recent years God showed me the importance of sometimes letting go of my neatly-arranged plan so I can enjoy opportunities to spend time with others. Even when it’s only a slice of time, the beauty and the memories that fill my life make it worth it. Time with people is more often at the top of my list now.

This life-changing lesson from God produced a willingness and a desire to build a deeper and more meaningful relationship with Uncle Miles. When my Aunt Elia passed away, his life changed drastically. Mine did, too. Her death was one of many cascading illnesses and death among my family within a short period of time. In my sorrow, I cried out to God, “Father, please don’t take Uncle Miles yet. I can’t say goodbye to anyone else right now. Please let me have more time with him.”

God gave me six years. Those were the most memorable years in our relationship, because Uncle Miles and I became close friends, not just family. Our friendship filled the empty places in both of our lives. We began calling each other every weak—he from the west coast and I from the east side of the country. We discussed family memories and happenings, but he always wanted to know about me. And I asked about the highlights and downsides of his life at the retirement center.

It didn’t matter that he was in his 90’s. He stayed engaged in my life. Each year in the fall, I traveled to Oregon for two weeks to see family and friends. I made time to visit Uncle Miles often, talk on the phone in between visits, and enjoy some meals together. We also started a tradition of taking a day trip together, usually drinking in the beauty of the Colombia River gorge and enjoying the majesty of Mt. Hood. Though hindered by macular degeneration, he remained in charge, cautioning me and making sure I didn’t miss any turns.

One year, after delivering him back to the center following our trip, we sat in his apartment and talked some more. Words full of encouragement and mutual admiration and affirmation flowed between us.

Finally, we stood and hugged each other good-bye. “Honey, thanks for spending time with me. Really enjoyed your visit and especially our trip today.”

Knowing that I was leaving the next day, we looked into each other’s eyes with love. I believe he knew he would never see me again. I was unaware. Perhaps that’s why God prompted me to say, “Uncle Miles, I’ll see you next time . . . but if not, I’ll see you in heaven.”

Uncle Miles died less than three months later, not from an illness, but unexpectedly one early morning at the age of 97. It’s been three years, and I still cry about his absence at times. Yet, I have no regrets because God showed me how to give up my time more freely—even small slices of time—so I wouldn’t miss the chance to build memories with my uncle that I’ll cherish forever.

What memories have you been able to build with a special person because you adjusted your plan and spent more time with them?

Life Through Loss:
Facing Your Pain, Finding Your Purpose
Available at ​Amazon Link

Where is Alan?

Choices, Connections, Faith, Hope
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Ever since my divine encounter with Alan at the beach several months ago, I’d wondered what had happened in his life since our conversation.
(The full story of Alan . . . Man at the Sea)

In June, my nephew Casey, great niece Piper and I enjoyed an overnight stay at the same beach where I’d met Alan. After waving goodbye as they headed home to South Carolina, I walked to my car. But I wasn’t thinking about driving home; I was focused on trying to find Alan.

As I wound through the back roads, I prayed, “You are God so you know exactly where Alan is today. Please lead me to him.”

God’s plan of precision began to unfold. My turns were only guesses as I passed by high-rise hotels and looked for a lower white building I remembered seeing behind Alan when we talked on the beach. Searching for the public steps he may have taken, I saw a nearby parking lot—but those slots were private. Spotting a service truck parked in a grassy area on a side road, I pulled in beside the vehicle and jumped out. Realizing my bumper stuck out slightly into the road, I got back in and pulled the car up a bit.

Satisfied, I reached for my book to give Alan, if I found him. I wandered toward the parking lot near the beach. As I crossed the street, I came face to face with a tall, thin women holding her dog and obviously headed for the beach, too. I hesitated, but she motioned for me to walk ahead of her.

As soon as I took a step forward, I heard, “What book are you reading?”

I stopped, turned around, and held up the book. “This happens to be something I wrote.”

She looked at the title and sub-title, gasped, and threw her arms around my neck.

Stunned, but wanting to acknowledge her obvious trauma, I said, “You have faced rejection, too.”

“All my life.”

I confided I had felt rejected during my growing up years. After we learned each other’s names, the story of Teresa’s sad life experiences tumbled out of her mouth. She mentioned being part of an Alcoholics Anonymous group. Could it be?

“Teresa, the reason I’m carrying this book, is I met a man named Alan on the beach several months ago. We talked about rejection and he wanted to read my book. If I find him I want to give him this copy. He said he’s part of an AA group here. Do you happen to know him?”

“Tall, skinny?”

“Yes!”

“He lives up the street and attends often. Our group meets tonight so he may be there.”

In disbelief, I handed her the book. “Would you give this to him?”

Not wanting our conversation to end, Teresa suggested we move to the shady area so her little dog, Maxie, wouldn’t have to stand on the hot concrete.

Like friends who’d known each other a long time, we lowered ourselves on to the inviting green grass and continued our story telling. We realized the differences in our experiences, yet the complete understanding we shared created a bond.

In spite of all the trauma she’d endured, Teresa had set her sights on a two-year degree in social work. She is working against enormous odds, but her unfailing belief and trust in God since the age of 31 will undoubtedly fortify her as she moves toward discovering God’s eternal plan. Her passion is to help others know they are not alone.

God merged three lives into one beautiful story. Teresa helped me find out where Alan was, and I listened to Teresa’s hurts and reinforced her hope in God for a better life.

“Teresa, we have to take some pictures.” We laughed and hugged, and made sure that one picture included her sweet, compliant dog Maxie. After all, he was the reason she was heading to the beach at that divine moment in time.

We exchanged cell phones and emails so we could keep in touch. As soon as I arrived home, I texted a handful of pictures.

Joy bubbled up inside me when I read Teresa’s response. “You blessed me today…God with skin.”

But my story doesn’t end there. In subsequent texts from Teresa, I learned that Alan was out of town for the summer. Finally he returned, and Teresa told me, “I gave Alan the book and he was pleasantly surprised.”

I can only imagine his expression when she handed him my book and related the story of how Teresa and I found each other. Another loving touch from God that I hope Alan will receive as proof of how much God loves him.

Man at the Sea

Choices, Connections, Fear, Freedom, Hope
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He sat in stillness, as if mesmerized by the crashing waves in front of him.

“Mind if I take your picture?” I ventured.

After his consent for a photo shoot, I asked him the standard beach-side question, “Where’re you from?”

“I live here and usually come once a day. How’d you get time off during the week?”

With a smile I replied, “I recently retired so I can drive here any time.”

“What’re you doing now that you’re retired?”

I offered the first thing that came to my mind. “Well, it’s given me time to write a book.”

When he asked what it’s about, and I explained it’s about the fear of rejection, he admitted, “The thought of rejection holds me back from saying things or presenting my opinion because I want it to be perfect.”

After confessing I had the same problem, I told him that God is in my life and He is helping me make progress and become more free with people.

After exchanging names, Alan told me more. “I belong to an AA group. I used to go to keep from drinking. Now I go because of the fellowship. And I feel safe.”

“How long have you been sober?”

“Seventeen years. I don’t want to take one drink, because I don’t want to give up what I have in the group.”

“That’s wonderful. God wants to help you stay sober.”

Pausing for a moment, we looked toward the rolling waves, blue sky, and brilliant sunshine and agreed that all of it reflected God.

As we stood together, he said, “Thank you for stopping to talk. I’ll buy your book. I know it will help me.”

“Alex, do you realize that God arranged that you would come to this spot and I would choose this time to walk by?”

We smiled at each other with the realization that this was an arranged appointment we would never forget.

As I walked away, I felt like my feet were barely touching the sand. I’m praying that this spiritual seed-planting and watering time will blossom and flourish in the heart of Alex, the man God brought to the sea that day.