SHARK & CATFISH

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!

*****************************************************

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!

*****************************************************