Psalm 18:30
I grew up going to Mystic Seaport in Mystic, Connecticut, a reproduction/restoration of a historic shipbuilding and whaling town. The sights, sounds and smells held my boyhood imagination captive. Creaking wood, smokey coal fires and old canvas transported me far, far away.
I heard sea-shanties sung by weather-grizzled men that spun tales of heroic fishermen who would spend up to a year living on board ship chasing wales, risking their lives for the oil in the beasts head that would make them rich.
Bards bragged of the moment when after harpooning a massive whale the hunters became corks as they held on for what was referred to as a "Nantucket Sleigh Ride".
The rope trailing from the harpooned whale was lashed to the small harpoon boats bow.
Either they or the fish would die.
Oh how I wanted to be a whaler.
However romantic whaling seemed to be it was not whales that kept people alive then, it was Cod. Cod were caught by the thousands using the mundane technique of long-lining by hand. Men would be dropped off the main ship in a John Boat and they would set out long thin ropes with hundreds of hooks and then pull them back in.
No sleigh-ride, no beast. Just Cod.
I am slowly coming to understand that God has made most of us Cod fisherman in his restoration plan. It is the slow, meticulous, steady work of trolling the unfathomable depths of God day in and day out that sustains us.
...give us this day our daily bread
It is here were our faith is proven and tried.
"I will give you manna for the day" The Father tells us.
"I will be with you always" Jesus told his followers.
Trusting God and his promises is the greatest act of defiance
we can show the world in these troubled times.
This past Monday while my family was on vacation our world was once again rocked my deep evil. It was very personal for our family as we had a number of dear friends (who live only a few feet away from us) running in the Boston Marathon. They had been within a mile of the bombs. All of our hearts stopped then pounded. We wept, prayed, and screamed. When we finally learned they were safe we began to breath again.
The next day on Tuesday morning my wife and I had to take our 3 and five year old daughters out for breakfast. It seemed almost irreverent but they had to eat. While we waited for their pancakes and our omelets we did what we do every morning.
We thanked God for keeping us safe last night.
We praised him for the morning.
We read his word and talked about his love and his promises.
The Beast had tried its beast to pull us under. By God's grace we went fishing for Cod, reminding ourselves of the one sure thing in the world:
...All of the Lord's promises are true.
NB. God desires none of his beloved creatures to be lost. Period. My family is broken for those who were killed and injured. As a dad who has buried a son I grieve deeply, and grieve well. May God have mercy on us all.
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