Right now…maybe for a high number of right now’s, my life in reflection, is of moments. I don’t know why they are more Velcro than Teflon. Some, not all. They simply are. Not moments of success or moments of failure. Simply moments that end up either way, sometimes both.
Like when my father and I trolled for trout at Diamond Lake in south-central Oregon. The rented boat was fine. And the skipper, yours truly because of my father’s insistence [I remember when I was eleven he gave me the keys to his garbage truck, to drive for the first time. A gear stick poking up from the floorboard. I cried the whole way. Ever driven a garbage truck eight blocks in compound low?] Okay, back to Diamond Lake.
We were told the south end of the lake was the most productive of very large rainbow trout. I remember the adventure, living with my father’s confidence I could captain the 14-foot rented boat and 3 horse-power outboard motor just fine. It was foggy and GPS wasn’t even a good idea in 1948. But, I knew south because the boathouse guy pointed in that direction. And I must have done just fine because we didn’t ground into the shore on our way south.
Suddenly, BAM, my father got a fish on. It ran and ran. We gained line back on it. Not sure how long it took, but I do remember looking at the hand net and wondering if it was big enough for the world’s largest rain bow trout.
We got close, then the fish ran. Close and not close. Felt like a horizontal yo-yo.
Then. NOW! The fish was immediately below the boat. The fog had cleared and my chance to be more than a captain. To be the “guy responsible” for helping my father catch the world’s largest rainbow trout.
I sort-of-held the net, my hand slickened by worry and sweat. I looked down.
And. And. And. Didn’t know how to tell my father this. He had hooked a huge tree trunk! No one told us the whole southern shore of Diamond Lake had been Douglas Fir trees harvested [think that’s the euphemism], leaving only tree trunks just under the surface. The fish “running away from us” was the wind gusting.
Where is this going? It’s going here and there about life. About moments that dot my life and sometimes end up being dashes and exclamation points and shadowed question marks.
Sure, I could share more moments, but only one to secure—at least personally—what triggered all this on a lazy Friday afternoon.
I remember my doctor of ministry professor, Douglas Meeks. He taught me—more, he ingrained in me—what stewardship is all about, how churches can be effective in meeting their budgets and their mission gifting.
He put it this way: the only way to grow with relevance and value is to be generous. That’s what God wants us to do. Why? Because we are “special to God.” He then cited in early Genesis when it’s declared we are made in the “image of God.” Whoa, the image of God?
We weren’t sure, but Doug explained: TO BE MADE IJN THE IMAGE OF GOD IS TO BE AUTHORIZED TO REPRESENT GOD. PEOPLE CAN KNOW GOD THROUGH US. OR THEY CAN WONDER IF THERE’S A GOD WHEN WATCHING THE MANNER BY WHICH WE AREN’T GENEROUS OR UNDERSTANDING.
All that triggered by this…which I don’t think of enough…but, maybe to mention it today I can be about what it says. As I visit my ophthalmologist and learn if he did okay in removing a cataract yesterday. Hopefully I can see better. But even more. Hopefully I learn how to be more caring and genuine…and never forget where the tree stumps are, be it a lake or a relationship.
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