On the shores

The book "Cultivate: The Process of Living From Your Heart" by Cageless Birds opens with this prayer: "On the shores of my soul, I give you permission."

These words are written underneath a photograph of feet in the water on the shoreline at a beach, standing in the space in the sand where the edge of the water flows up to. It is a shallow place. Stand there, pray this prayer: On the shores of my soul, I give you permission.

It reminds me of another shoreline where our Lord once stood, watching his brothers fishing in a boat on the water. They don't know he's there and wouldn't recognize him yet even if they saw him. But he is on the shore, watching. And they are in the water, fishing.

They fail. They are fishermen, and they spend all night fishing, and they catch not even one fish. This thing they are supposed to be good at, this way they make their livelihood -- they get it wrong. Their performance doesn't measure up, they can't eat, and maybe they question if they can really even do anything, on account of the fact their last judgment call of following this man who was supposed to save them but now is apparently dead didn't really turn out the way they hoped. They are maybe feeling dejected, maybe feeling worthless, maybe feeling afraid.

But then, from the shore. Try again, the Lord says. Try again.

They do. And their catch is abundant.

He does not get in and cast the net for them. He stays on the shore, watching, instructing, calling them to have faith and courage and pursue this honest desire. He wants them to recognize him in this miracle they participate in, this miracle that recalls similar events with fish and not having enough, this miracle that speaks directly and uniquely to their hearts. He wants them to have faith he is there, which is what they really want, and this is how he shows them.

"Cast the net over the right side of the boat, and you will find something," he says. It's an understatement, in that wily way of the Lord. They catch 153 fish, and their net is not torn. They can eat, they can use their net again, they can be with the Lord.

What if they'd succumbed to hopelessness, told him it was useless? What if they'd sunk into despair, assumed it would be fruitless? They'd have missed the blessing, missed the gift. Missed the fulfillment of what their deepest hopes wanted.

We, too, get the invitation: let's try this again. Our God is a good father who wants to teach us, who delights in being patient with us, who is glad to encourage us along our way. We do not have to be perfect at everything or anything all the time or ever. We just have to listen to the Lord when he asks us to try again, have the courage to throw our net over the other side of the boat no matter how futile it seems, and believe in his mercy, his goodness, his provision.

Receive his grace. On the shores of our soul, we give you permission.