“When
He had stopped speaking, He said to Simon,“Launch
out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.”
“But
Simon answered and said to Him, “Master, we have toiled all night
and caught nothing; nevertheless at Your word I will let down the
net.”
And when they had done this, they
caught a great number of fish, and their net was breaking.”
I stop and think.
Within our own life, we also have a tendency to create boundaries around our expectations. Like a net, built to contain only a certain
amount of fish, we set ideals for certain dreams, accomplishments or
goals, that we believe to be possible. We hope for what we desire, we
create expectations of what could be, and finally we set out to bring
them to pass, throwing our nets over the side of the boat and
waiting. When we try on our own to meet the expectations we have
written for ourselves, sometimes we reap little...sometimes nothing.
But once God enters the picture...everything changes.
Jesus meets with
the disciples, and knowing they have had little success, He asks them
to launch out their net again. They obey. The result? “they
caught a great number of fish, and their net was breaking.” Their
own boundaries of expectations were stretched and burst, by the
abundant work of Christ in their life. When they listened. He
performed. The original desires planted in their heart, but His
blessing for them, going far above and beyond anything they prepared
for or imagined. Their greatest dream, small, in comparison to God's
intended plan for them.
I reflect on my own
life. I tend to hope for more, pushing the boundaries of reasonable
expectation. On my own, they have failed time and time again. Yet
looking back on my life, the core of my heart's desire, the dreams
and hopes that have been building in me...I am beginning to see that
my net has long been ripping. As I am called, asked to live a life
with Him – walk with Him – He has been filling, pouring into my
life's net in ways that I would not have thought on my own.
For the final time,
I walk into the clinic. The treatment room is now organized.
Equipment is sorted and in it's rightful place. I treat my last
patient. Another patient enters, holding out an African dress she has
for me. A gift. Lunchtime comes. I eat my last Ugandan meal.
“The last supper,
together.” says Stella.
We take pictures. I
start my walk back home. Friends from the village are on their way to
say goodbye. We hug in the middle of the familiar red, dirt road. I
continue on, almost back to the apartment. A tap on my shoulder.
“Thank you...”
I struggle to put a
name to her face. She holds out her hand. I remember. I am staring
down at what used to be an infected, gaping hole. It has closed and
new tissue is forming over top.
I give her a hug
“Praise God...”
Once again...He has
done more.
I pack my final
bags and eat the remainder of my bananas. We sit around in the
apartment, grateful for what we have left, sad for the time that is
ending. A van comes around the side of the apartment. He comes in and
takes my luggage. It is time.
Kyra is waiting
outside with Maureen. She has a box for me with three notes in it.
Maureen gives me a
bracelet.
“You and I” it
says.
Kelli, Jess, Anna,
Anika and Sarah follow me outside. I hear the babies crying from the
Home, now behind me. I hug each of the girls goodbye. Kyra is crying.
All our eyes are wet.
I get into the van.
The wheels start turning, making their way out of Suubi village. I
put my arm out the window and wave until they are out of sight.
Homeward bound.
When Jesus speaks.
Listen. When He commands. Obeys. He knows the desires at our core,
and He is able to exceedingly, abundantly above all that we could
think or ask. Being here has been proof.
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