Fish Bowl Christianity

Fish Bowl Christianity

Unlike many people, I never had a "family pet" as I was growing up.

Never, ever.

My mom was (and very-much-so still is) allergic to everything under the sun.

Aaaand I had more siblings than your average American family, but without quite reaching Dugger-family-status. (or coming anywhere even close, whew!… side note: could you even imagine?!)

These factors, added in with the fact that my parents spent every extra dime they had on private education for all five of us kids, really just weren't all-that-conducive to including a family pet of any sort.

But don't feel sorry for me. I don't feel like I was jipped or anything. I love my family, and the memories I can still recall from my childhood are nothing short of classic. Pet or no pet.

When I "grew up" and moved to Lynchburg about four years ago, I tossed around the idea of getting a pet. You know, just to see what it would be like. Nothing huge or fancy or gross or high-maintenance. (Ok, so that ended up being nothing at all. hah.) 

But, in passing, I thought about getting a goldfish. 

Much like an overzealous girlfriend or an overly bored female of any age would do, I picked out names long before reality required me to do so. That's right. I picked out a name for my not-in-reality goldfish. 

Ready for this? His name would be….. Soweto. 

The reasoning behind this name was two-fold. One, it's the name of a town in Africa that I fervently prayed over for quite some time. (Man, I need to get back to doing that.) 

And two, if you say it slowly, it makes for one cheesy joke "So….Wet….Oh." Get it? For a goldfish? (No, I'm not even lying; but man oh man, know I wish I were. #blushing #embarrassed) Maybe one day that whole Soweto thing will actually happen. Or maybe not. I'm cool with it either way.

All of those memories came to my mind just this past weekend as I was traveling back from Jacksonville, FL ("home-home") to Lynchburg, VA ("home") because of a conversation I had with an old friend. 

I take that back. It wasn't so much the whole conversation as it was just one simple phrase. In the midst of our conversation-over-Cracker-Barrell-yumminess, she struck me with a phrase so honest yet so painful that it couldn't be ignored. She said this.

"Rosemary, I feel like God's abandoned me."

And then, she proceeded to tell me a certain desire she's prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed over and how God has yet to fulfill it in her life. She traversed through the ups and downs of where she's been in life with God concerning it. (Perhaps you could relate?)

The sequence of her prayers went something like this:

"God, do You hear me?"

"God, if You hear me, why aren't you giving me (fill-in-the-blank)?"

"God, are You angry at me?"

"God, I just don't understand."

"God, I'm done. Take my desire for (fill-in-the-blank) away."

"God, why am I still desiring (fill-in-the-blank) if it's not Your will?"

"God, are You still there?"

"God, do You even care?"

Her follow-through to this sequence of prayers were some stories of her college friends who already had what she was desiring and begging and praying-her-heart-out-to-God-about. She was frustrated. Sad. Hopeless. Broken. Jealous. Bitter. In utter ruins.

What do you say to someone who's hopped off the train leading to hope? To one who feels forgotten? To one who's absolutely convinced herself that God's simply not "tardy" in the details and affairs of her life, but that He's altogether absentee?

1. Speak truth into her life, yes please.

2. Empathize, without a doubt.

3. Pray, most definitely.

With all said, I readily acknowledge that reason and emotion don't always align. I know it because I've been there too. All. too. often. Do you ever find yourself there as well? We know all-too-well the truth with our minds, but when-oh-when will we let it sink deep down into our hearts?

I know the book of Jeremiah reminds us that the heart is DESPERATELY wicked, and it'll deceive us all-the-time. 

But my God is bigger than our hearts. 

For He created them (without our help). 

He fashioned them (without our approval). 

He can control them (if we'd only give Him the reigns).

Just listening to my friend talk, I realized how easy it is to look at others' lives and compare. It's easy to look at everyone else as if they're swimming in the ocean when you're stuck in a fish bowl (and stuck with a name like Soweto. ha.).

But don't get me wrong. I'm not saying God is holding the ocean back from you. Perhaps, He's simply preparing you for it. (Pssst...You know, there are sharks and big waves and things out there....?!?) It's no secret that He's always got your best interest at heart.

Reminds me slightly of the Israelites. Who ate manna and complained. And complained and ate manna. And ate manna and complained. (You get the idea, don't you?!?) God provided everything they needed right where they were DESPITE THEMSELVES.

Bottom line is this:

God loves us. 

far. 

too. 

much. 

To withhold good things from us.

The problem is that our definitions of "what's good," our timetables, and heart's desires don't always match up with our Heavenly Father's.

Today, look around. You've got everything you need. right. in. front. of. you. (yes, inside your fish bowl)

Stop listing out your complaints.

And start counting your pieces of manna instead.