Flapping Like a Fish
Warm
spring days make me think of summer vacations spent with my grandparents. One
of the gifts they gave me was the gift of a sense of place. They gave my heart
two homes: here and there. ‘Here’ is the green of Kentucky in the
spring. ‘There’ is the kingdom of God: “sweeping the world with love and
power so that human beings, each made in God's image and each one loved deeply,
may relax in the knowledge that God is in control.” [1]
The tension of holding here and there
together in one place, in one heart, is where it seems to get complicated.
I
practice Lectionary Lectio Divina. I use the daily readings from the Anglican Church
of North America’s (ACNA) Book of Common Prayer – four readings from across the
scriptures. I try to hold them up as a mirror or a flashlight pointing toward
my life’s realities and my internal thoughts, feelings, prides and shames. It
is the way I know to have Holy Love get more than a cursory say in this life I
have been gifted. It’s a way of living out a life commitment I made many years
ago. I want to live at the place where my life and God’s will intersect for maximum
kingdom impact. That is purpose, goal and perhaps, legacy.
I
woke up this morning with an image that God gave me. The picture I had was of a
fish on a hook, held by the fisherman on a boat somewhere on a green lake. That’s
a common picture on my social media feed this time of year. There’s not much better
than a big mess of bluegill and crappie, fried to perfection with watermelon to
follow. My grandfather, Twister, taught me to not grab the fish while it was
flapping around but to wait until it was still, the slide a gentle but firm
hand around the fish, smoothing down the prickly fins. Then you can take the
hook out of the fish’s mouth, doing as little damage as possible. The next decision
is the fisherman’s – to keep or to toss back? As much as I love to eat fried
fish, I was always secretly happy to see the ones that got away.
That
moment was part of the picture this morning as well. Here’s what I wrote in my
journal:
Like a fish on a hook, flapping wildly.
Gently taken off the hook and returned
to the green lake water. Released, swimming down, disappearing into the murk.
I
have been the fish on the hook lately. This picture, this sense of place, is
where theology, geography, history, and culture meet. That intersection is
where we build altars of thanksgiving and hope. I am, have been, flapping wildly,
not trusting that this fisherman is one who believes in catch and release.
Here
are today’s lectionary readings: Deuteronomy 23, Psalm 52-55, Ecclesiastes 8,
Acts 1 and Luke 12:1-34. I read all four of them, marking the words that stand
out to me, words that seem to shimmer around the edges. In my journal, I go back and make a list of
all the ‘shiny’ words. Then I hold the scripture lens up to my life, often with
another image that comes to mind – like the flapping, caught fish. The act of
writing, putting pen to paper is an act of active prayer. When I hold all those things in my mind and
heart, I begin to get a sense of the joy, the comfort, the correction I am
being offered. That is the resurrection moment – where we live lives that are
more than embodied by our humanity, we are partners, on common ground with the creator
of the universe.
As
I write and prayer, a new reality is created.
I can find the peace, the comfort, the joy, the contentment that my
finite human spirit needs. I can stop flapping. The next right thing may be for
me to gather my energy for one mighty flop that pulls me off the hook, out of
the boat and back into the water. Another
result may be that I wait, prickly fins folded down, for the fisherman to gently
disentangle me and put me back in the cool, green water.
Lectionary
Lectio Divina helps me connect and commit to the Creator who is holding it all together.
In
this season of my life, space has been cleared for me to have the time and energy
to practice and write about Lectionary Lectio Divina. Not every day, just when I can. If you’re
reading this and you like it, have questions or thoughts, you can email me at oldekygirl@gmail.com.
You
can also go to Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=71577573 to support our work and family if that’s
where God leads you.
Blessings,
friends, Kelli
Comments
Post a Comment