SHARK & CATFISH
(or, Resting in Jesus)
by Brenda L. Agee
A few months
ago my daughter and her family went to Florida for a short vacation to the
beach. My grandson said he was sure
there was room in the car for me to go also, but of course there wasn't and
even had there been room, I'd most likely have stayed here at home in the
air-conditioning!
One of their days
on the beach during that vacation, my five year old granddaughter went to the
ocean's edge - you know, where you can just stand there in the sand and let the
water lap at your feet, gently roll back, and then come to cover your feet
again. This particular time though, she
went to the water and suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, "
SHARK! SHARK!" She was serious and she was scared and ran
back to her mama and daddy, still yelling, "SHARK!"
I don't know
about you, but if I'm on a beach or in the water and someone yells, "SHARK!",
no matter how young or how old the voice sounds, I'm heading for higher ground!
The first
thing her parents did was try to comfort her but she was having nothing to do
with the comfort so they took her to the place where she saw the
"shark". With one glance her
parents saw that it was a dead salt-water catfish. They tried to tell her that instead of a
shark, it was a dead little catfish but she wasn't convinced and continued to
yell "shark". Now, I don't
know if this part really happened, but according to her brother, which to him makes
for a funnier story, she even ran a short distance up and down the beach
yelling "shark". She may have
or she may not have but either way it sounds funny to me just thinking of what
the other beach goers might have thought.
A couple of
nights ago I told my granddaughter that I was going to write a short story
about her thinking she saw a shark and she looked at me quite seriously. "But, Grandma, if you ever go to an
ocean and see a dead catfish, you'll know that it looks just like a
shark!" It seemed to me at that
moment that maybe she isn't quite sure even now that the dead catfish wasn't a
shark. I do know she'll remember it the
rest of her life.
Life is like
that even for us. There are things that
have happened that stay with us. There
are things that scare us or cause sudden fear that are sometimes hard to
release. In my own life, there have been
many things that have stayed with me, just like the image of what she believed
to be a shark on the beach will stay with my granddaughter. I've said that we all have a story and we are
all on our own journey with God but at times it seems as though Satan throws up
a detour and our journey, our path, can become hurtful, sad, or even fearful
The fearful
heart is an easy target when tried by the fires of everyday life. I admit that when uncertainty guided my
footsteps, my direction seemed aimless.
However, God kept before me a path of love that illuminated my soul that
I might know Him more. That's all I wanted.
I wanted more of God so I could be free.
All I wanted through those years of pain, and even now, is more of
Him. Jesus is and always has been my
'absolute'. There's nothing about Him
that has changed but He has changed me. I
knew God; I loved God; I rejoiced in God.
But there was a panic inside that I couldn’t' explain.
There are many
things I learned during those painful times years ago. I learned that sometimes people may say things that are
rather insensitive although they mean to be encouraging. One such statement, for me at least, was, "Well,
if you would just pray about it, all would be okay!" Oh my! I prayed all of the time. I prayed standing up, sitting down, kneeling
next to the bed or sofa, while lying on the floor crying my heart out. In fact, I cried so much as I prayed that I
smudged the words on several pages of my Bible and had to buy a new one. I prayed when I walked through the grocery
store, I prayed while washing dishes, or when in the shower, or when driving
the car. I always prayed.
I also
learned that Satan didn't need to send others to judge me and condemn me
because I was doing a pretty good job of that, myself. I simply couldn't understand how I could love
God so very much, and how I could be so joyful in Him and yet feel that panic
inside. To pray, to rejoice, to sing, to
teach, to minister, to encourage, to lead others to Christ were a strong part
of who I was and still am in Jesus, so why the fear and panic? I
never once lost my faith that He would bring me through everything. Never! I knew He would. Why else would I pray so much? There were, however, people who thought my
faith was extremely weak or that I had no faith and they didn't mind telling me
so. With my self-condemnation already in
place, what they said caused even more unrest.
So again I told myself that I must be out of God's will.
Much of the fear
and pain inside me started from being abused.
I wrote briefly about it in one of my earlier blogs titled, "I
Found God." There was much inside
me that had festered and rotted - like I had an unspiritual food poisoning - and
God was bringing it up and out of me.
Not a nice picture, but neither was it a nice experience.
In Romans,
chapter 8, we are told that when we have no words, the Holy Spirit prays for
us, crying, "Abba!" The term
Abba is more than just meaning "Father"; it's more endearing, more
intimate. Abba means
"Daddy". What!? The Holy Spirit calls Himself, God the
Father, "Daddy" when we are at our deepest need?
I'm the one
who thought there was something wrong with me.
God never said to me, "There is something so wrong with you,
Brenda, that I'm just not going to use up any more time with you." But instead, He saw in me, who I am in Jesus
and God wanted me to heal and then rest in Him.
That is
another thing that well-meaning Christians would say: "Well, just rest in
Jesus, Brenda. Just rest in Him."
Yes! Okay!
Now you are telling me what I need to hear. So, how do I do that? How do I rest in Jesus?
The answer I
usually got was back to what I earlier said I was told, "Well, if you just
pray about it, it will all be okay."
It was like I
had jumped onto an evil Ferris Wheel that had only one seat, one chair, which
was my chair. There were words printed
on each side of that chair. On the right
were the words, 'You don't know how to pray' and on the left were the words,
'You'll never know how to rest in Jesus'.
I didn't know how to stop the self-condemnation or panic.
Until . . .
There was
nothing different that particular night when I cried and prayed in my bed. But I remember it just as vividly as a little
girl I know who will always remember thinking she saw a shark on a beach. I prayed the same prayer I had prayed for
years, "God, no matter how much I love and serve You, I'm scared and I
don't know why. I just don't know what
it means to rest in You."
And there it
was: rest. God showed me by reminding me
of my own two children when they were little.
My son, when
hurt, would run to me, crawl up onto my lap, melt back into my arms for only a
moment's cuddle and without a word, he just knew Mama made it better. Sometimes with a little kiss and sometimes
without, he would jump down and go play.
All was perfect again.
My daughter,
when hurt, would come to me and occasionally crawl up onto my lap but most of the
time she would just stand in front of me, crying, waiting for me to pick her
up, which of course I did. Either way,
she didn't cuddle. She wanted my comfort
just as much as my son did but she stayed a bit stiff, she struggled. I always put my arms around her, said the
soothing words a Mama says and rocked her back and forth. I would tell her I love her and that all
would be okay. It took awhile, but
slowly she would lie back in my arms and eventually rest in my embrace and
stay there. Still crying, still with
bloody little knees or a bruised elbow, she rested in her Mama's love. And all would be perfect again. I ached for her and she never knew how many times
my tears mingled with her own. She was
my baby and I wanted so much for her to not hurt or struggle with her hurt. Eventually she would just run to me for
comfort. But for a couple of years, it
was difficult.
I knew when
God reminded me of my two beautiful babies, which one I was with Him. I knew to go to Him and I knew He would take
care of me. But somehow, I struggled
with my hurt. I didn't want the hurt but
it was there. I didn't want to be
bruised and bleeding, but I was. The
pain and memories were just too much to bear.
When I
realized that night what God had shown me, I softly cried and I softly said to
my Abba, "Oh, Holy Spirit, please just hold me." And, I rested in Him.
I believe
that most of us have something in our past, or in our present, with which we
struggle. We don't mean to, but we just
do. And, it's not easy to find that
rest. We may hurt so much that we just
don't know why we aren't at peace when we love God and He loves us. But pain is pain! Rest in Jesus is spiritual first and given by
the Holy Spirit, Himself. Then the
emotional pain lessens. For some of us,
I think we get the two mixed up. We
think emotional pain is somehow spiritual as though we are out of God's will so
we don't know how to let God hold us, sooth us, and tell us that all is okay.
Being at rest
with God is like a day at the beach for a child. All is so wonderful and exciting. Nothing could be better! We run with the waves, we stand at the edge
of the ocean and let the water lap at our feet.
But then, something catches our attention. It could be a deep hurt from our past or it
could be a recent tragedy or maybe someone just said something hurtful. We cry, "Shark! Shark!"
For some,
when our Father, Abba God, says, "No.
It's just a little dead catfish.
It's dead and can't hurt you," they just say, "Okay!" and
run on to play.
But for
others, even when held in the arms our Father, Abba God, we continue to yell,
"Shark!"
"No,
Baby, it's not a shark"
"Yes, it
is. It's a Shark!"
"No,
Baby, it's just a little dead catfish."
"It's a
Shark!"
"I've
got you. It's okay. I'll never turn loose. You'll always be safe"
And then, we rest!
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Abba, Father God, thank You that You love and hold us when
we cry in pain. Thank you, Holy Spirit,
that you speak for us when we have no words.
Thank you, Jesus, that you carry us when our burden is too great. Thank you, oh God, that Your perfect love
casts out all fear. Thank You for rest!
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