Throwing Down Those Nets

Tonight at Evening Prayer, the story from the Good Book* where folks were asked to throw down their nets and follow was read.

And discussed.

While we were listening, the thought came to my mind–

What am I supposed to be throwing down “my nets” and doing?  

What?!

That’s a hard question.  I really wish I wouldn’t ask me things like that.

It is rare that I can throw down what I am in the middle of doing now and answer a question or need right away.

It’s usually–“Okay, hang on” or “Okay, in a minute. Let me get to a stopping point.”

Yeah, I don’t think that was the answer given in the story from the Good Book.

I think they just threw down their nets, were open to change, and went.

And while I realize that it might be a little unrealistic to think of doing that right now, I wonder–

what could make me stop what I am doing and GO?

Move?

Act?

Grow?

Oh, not as in leaving this life I lead, but instead, what could make me change my priorities?

What would I make myself interruptible for?

What could make me give up some of my creature comforts and take action that will make a difference in the world?

What can I give my heart and my all to?

I don’t know, but as we turn the pages of the beginning of this new year, I’m aiming to find out.

I want to throw down my nets and go and see.  And do.

And change the world for the better.

Even if that just means changing the path I’m on.   Sometimes slowing down and listening can mean a change for the better too, I think.

Change is hard, and I’m genetically predisposed not to take to it very well either.

Wishing you all a reason to throw down your nets and good people to go and see and do with.

Love to all.

 

*John 1:39-50

Mark 1:16-20

Keeping the Creases

I finally got around to unpacking the kitchen box from my Mama’s that I had here.  Mess Cat did a beautiful job of packing it.  Everything was safe and sound, wrapped in Mama’s cloth napkins and placemats.

For years Mama used thin cloth napkins folded into a square to catch the sweat from her and Daddy’s drinking glasses, thus preventing sweat rings on the table, the desk, or her side table in the living room.

Mama's cloth napkins turned into coasters.....some of these have been around a very long time.

Mama’s cloth napkins turned into coasters…..some of these have been around a very long time.

As I was folding Mt. Washmore today, I came to her napkins.  It was amazing.  Some of them, after so many years of being folded in just the same way, even after being machine washed and dried, held their creases and were almost perfectly folded even after being soaked and tossed and thrown around under extreme heat.

Wow.

Sometimes we are like that, right?  Something is so ingrained in us after years and years of doing things the same way, that no matter the pressure, the hard times, we’re still going to do them exactly the same.

And I think sometimes that’s a good thing.  To be strong and consistent and hold our own in the face of adversity.  Of loss, pain, or grief.

But sometimes maybe it’s not.

Sometimes maybe we should let some of the things we go through reshape us–maybe we shouldn’t fight the change so hard.

A very wise therapist I know once talked about a furrowed field.  All the rows and lines, all nice and orderly, freshly plowed, ready for things to grow.  But when a storm hits, the field goes back to how it was before the furrowing.  When adversity comes along, it returns to its old patterns, its old way of being.

His point was we can think we are changed, ready for new growth, but when something hard happens, we tend to go back to our old ways of coping, of handling it.

And sometimes that is not healthy.

Tonight I’m thankful for some things that never change, like my Mama’s cloth coasters.  And their creases.  And I’m thankful for some of the things that do change.  Things that have me stepping outside my comfort zone.  Like writing and reading new books and meeting new people and sharing stories.

We have the power to do both within us–to change and to stay the same.  The true power is knowing when to do what.

Love to all.