A pink glow came in the the bathroom window this morning, and I thought of myself as sailor, felt warning. This globe spins around the sun another day and we are held here in the gravity of summer, the humidity, the stuff, the calling, the alphabet soup spelling out TO-DO lists faster than we can read them.
But my job today is not to sink in the doer’s quicksand but rather to shirk the brain fuss and retain the salty taste of joy and grace, to let the fire rekindle that sweet wick of thanksgiving. There are parts of us that gravity can’t hold down, parts that never get wet in the rain. We are invisible lamps in a realm of spirit fire, but we forget it sometimes, using our earth eyes.
I’ve been thinking of Jesus. He was thirty once like I am now, and it makes me just burn to think of him as a peer walking with skin on, saying, “Follow me.” With age, Jesus’ words have become more literal. I wake this morning, and He’s telling me to drop my nets where they are. “Come.” And it’s no surprise. He’s been saying it to me for 12 years now. So if I know He’s calling me, even into all the world,
why wouldn’t I be prepared to go?
I’m asking myself again – what are the things that keep you from going? What are the nets in your life He’s asking you to put down?