Casting, Christmas & The Art of Fly Fishing

Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous fall. (Psalm 55:22)

So I can’t seem to get this verse out of my head this week. Humor me as I relive an afternoon from my childhood.I’ll get to the point, as Ellen DeGeneres says, “And I do have one…”
When my brother and I were young, we’d explore the world on our bicycles. The most exciting adventures began when Dad hopped on his bike and let us follow along like ducklings. Much to my mother’s chagrin, we’d first cruise the heavily trafficked thoroughfares until we reached a quieter country road. This particular road was paved, and lined with trees and fields and leaves and butterflies and pebbles. Toward the end of our journey we’d come across a creek. At this point, we’d pull our bikes off the road, rest them in the grass, yank off socks and sneakers. The water before us was an unknown treasure trove of creatures.
I’d set out in search of a stick, something straight and sturdy. Something that resembled Opey Taylor’s fishing rod from the intro to The Andy Griffith Show. My brother would dig in his pockets for string. We’d fashion our own fishing pole from the rudimentary elements available. It was no trouble finding worms, -- and once Dad informed me worms have no nervous system, and therefore feel no pain when being attached to a hook – it was no trouble fixing bait. (Although I’m not quite sure why this information was comforting to me, as the worm’s destiny included being eaten alive.) Nevertheless, the three of us would spend an afternoon wading in the creek, trying to catch fish with our fishing rod. When our handcrafted pole proved futile, we’d catch tiny fish by cupping our hands together. The water was fairly murky, but sometimes we’d feel a craw fish skitter over our feet. If we were lucky, we’d snatch the critter before it scurried off under the bridge. Of course the fun was in the catching, we’d always release the creatures back to their habitat. (Much to our mother’s joy and happiness…) Then back to our bikes, the trek home, and a nice loooooong sudsy bath.
During college, my brother traded sticks and string for rods and reels. He’s become quite the fisherman, and quite the artist creating masterful fly ties. (Who knew bait hooks could be so intricately ornate?) There is something awe inspiring about fly-fishing. (I feel I must insert a shameless plug for the film A River Runs Through It…the cinematic photography captures the intrinsic, almost musical, beauty of casting the fly…) My brother has tried to teach me the art of fishing, to no avail. I’m not what you would call a “natural.” Sure, I can bait a hook with an earthworm…I’m a bit squeamish with other creepy crawlers. But I’m beyond horrible when it comes to casting. I try to wave the fishing pole in a graceful circle above my head and release the line to sail toward the waters. It just doesn’t happen. Either a few inches of the line releases, and the worm dangles from the top of my pole. Or twenty feet of the line releases, wraps around my body, and the worm hooks firmly to my clothing.
So, getting to my point…and I promise I have one. I was pondering this verse about casting. And thinking that the act of casting involves throwing the object away from you, not keeping it close, not wrapping it tighter around you so that you are enmeshed. But hurling it far away. I think that’s what God wants us to do with our fear, our worries, the stuff that keeps us awake at night. I think He wants us to take that anxiety, and hurl it from our backs –as far away as possible-- on to His capable hands. And then we wait. (I’m reminded of a verse in I Samuel 22:3 where David is fleeing from Saul and he asked the king of Moab, “Would you let my father and mother come and stay with you until I learn what God will do for me?” – David knew God would sustain him.) And He will sustain us. He will keep us going.
This bit about casting isn’t only in the Old Testament, but also in the New Testament. In 1 Peter 5:7 – Cast all your anxiety on God because he cares for you. What a powerful message, over the course of thousands of years. And while we’re in I Peter, one more verse in closing: Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. (I Peter 3:15)
And that reason, that answer, that hope is Jesus Christ.
Merry Christmas.

Ornery Kiddos, Big Plans & Snow...

The more I ponder the story of Christmas, the more I am in awe of the brilliance and majesty of God. Ok, that sounded really “Sunday School Teacher’s Pet-ish,” but SERIOUSLY, how exceedingly brilliant is the part of the plan unfolded thus far? For the sake of discussion, let’s start toward the beginning of the Bible and consider the Exodus story (you know, Moses, the Hebrew people escaping the bondage of Egypt, wandering in the desert, searching for the Promised Land) from the role of a parent and extrapolate the concept out a billion-fold as we seek to understand an inkling of God.
You have these kids. You love them unconditionally, but…let’s face it, they’re ornery. They kind of know right from wrong, but they aren’t ones to tow the line. You give them everything they need. You give them everything they want. They aren’t happy. They get into a heap of trouble. They make some atrociously bad choices. You try to rescue them, to lead them to a safe place. They still aren’t happy. So you set up 10 hard and fast rules. All about love. Loving you, loving their neighbors. But no dice, still ornery, still getting into a heap of trouble, still choosing to face the consequences of their actions. And no matter what you do, you can’t force them to love you. They have to choose to love you.
It all comes back to love, and you have a plan, a fabulously perfect plan that you can’t wait to reveal, but the kids would go completely bonkers if they understood the extent of your plan. I mean, let’s face it: if they knew too many details of the future, their world would be ROCKED. Big time. But you want them to see the light at the end of the tunnel. To realize they can turn around, ask forgiveness, and cling to a relationship with you. After all, you’ve never stopped loving them, regardless of what they’ve done.
Thousands of years ago, folks listened to prophets and heard scripture, even if they couldn’t read. So you start to tell them what to expect:
“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever.” Isaiah 9:6-7But even this, if they understood correctly, would have freaked them out. Because God’s people, well, they begin to look for a King. Not just a regular ruler, but a Mighty God kind of King. And what would that look like? Well, clearly a muscular commander, powerful because of his physical strength, not afraid to slaughter enemies, a super-hero who dresses the part, dependent on no one, possibly riding in on a stately horse to save the day.
But God’s way (“as for God, his way is perfect.” II Samuel 22:31) is certainly (thankfully) different from our way. Turns out the prophecy is fulfilled when He actually sends himself, in the form of a human: His Son to earth. I’d be willing to wager that not too many folks saw that coming. I mean, if you were to think of the exact polar opposite of King…would it not be an infant? Tiny, fragile, vulnerable. Perhaps THE most vulnerable, needy creature of all.
I’ve been listening to this beautiful collection of Christmas music on Chris Tomlin’s “Glory In The Highest” album. One of the songs struck me as particularly powerful as I was pondering this brilliant plan of redemption through love. These lyrics to Winter Snow are written by Audrey Assad:
Could’ve come like a mighty storm
With all the strength of a hurricane
You could’ve come like a forest fire
With the power of Heaven in Your flame
But You came like a winter snow
Quiet and soft and slow
Falling from the sky in the night
To the Earth below
Could’ve swept in like a tidal wave
Or an ocean to ravish our hearts
You could have come through like a roaring flood
To wipe away the things we’ve scarred
No, Your voice wasn’t in a bush burning
No, Your voice wasn’t in a rushing wind
It was still, it was small, it was hiddenGod loves us, but never forces us to love Him back. For Christmas, He gave us the greatest gift of all, Himself in the form of a human infant. As I explained last night to the Bug and the Pea, the biggest gifts of all come in the tiniest packages.

Panic! Patience. Peace

This morning I came across scripture I’ve read a billion times before, in fact, I committed to memory as a child: “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7)
But it is the perfect verse to describe this week. Well, this month. Even the past few months. I found myself explaining to a friend, “I honestly feel I couldn’t possibly BE anxious, even if I tried. It’s as if my mind can’t even possibly GO THERE. To that place of worry”.
“So let me get this straight,” she said, “You haven’t sold your home, you haven’t bought a new home, you’re not sure where you are going to live, you haven’t made Christmas plans because you don’t know where you’ll be, you’re not positive where your kids will go to school next month…and you’re ‘at peace’ with all of this?”
And as crazy as it sounds, because believe me, I am the Queen of Anxiety, it’s the truth.
We’ve had a great week. And yet as I was writing an e-mail recapping the past few days, I actually used phrases like, “Fortunately, Tuesday’s CT scans ruled out appendicitis…” and “The repairman was able to fix the heat in our temporary place, we won’t need to sleep in coats tonight!” And honestly, it never even occurred to me to be anything but truly grateful that God was watching over us. So very un-Leigh like. Usually I would have put my own plan in action, considered some serious complaining, contemplated a pity party. Yet, strangely enough, I haven’t been able to relate stories of our topsy-turvy week without laughter.
As I’m working through a Bible Study on the book of Isaiah, I’m reminded to keep my eyes focused on God, and his ultimate, perfect plan. My Bible Study leader really gave me something to think about when she said, “When we take our eyes off God and focus on circumstances….fear results. We can either choose to look at God through our circumstances or choose to look at circumstances through God.” Now THAT is powerful stuff. Do I live by faith or by fear?
A few nights ago, I began to feel overwhelmed with this process of transitioning from one state to another over the holidays. The instant, I mean…the very instant…that fear began to creep into my heart, I heard the angelic voice of The Bug, wafting down the hall, singing a hymn I didn’t even realize she knew: “What have I to fear? Leaning on the everlasting arms!” I immediately shifted my focus back to God, who has always been faithful to provide, and my peace was restored.
“Mama,” said the Bug as I was tucking her in bed beneath a mountain of blankets. “For whatever reason I just can’t get that song out of my head tonight! Sing with me…”
And I did.

“You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD, the LORD, is the Rock eternal.” (Isaiah 26:3-4)