Jonah take Six

With a population of three and half trillion fish swimming and swooshing around the seas and almost thirty-three thousand different, diverse species, there is a beautiful mystery just beneath the surface of the water.  Scientists suggest that as much at 95 percent of our oceans are unexplored and unknown.  The final frontier may not only be amid vastness of stars and galaxies over our heads but also to dive deep into the waters that wash on our sandy beaches, touching and tickling our toes.  The mystery of water is not only outside of us, our bodies are sixty percent water, our brains are seventy percent water, it is a wonder I am even able to write and not some puddle on the floor. I have stood out at Siesta Beach, wading in the water, and been mystified that there may have been a droplet of water I am swimming in that at some point touched the distant shores of Japan.  Because water is constantly being recycled, a droplet of water right outside the window may have been around centuries ago.  Some of the water we splash and swim in was here on earth when Jonah took the electric eel express to Nineveh.  Until that big fish dropped off and deposited him like someone at an old fashion watermelon seed spitting contest.  There is an image you won’t get out of your mind for a few days.  Jonah finds himself washed up on the shores on the outskirts of the city where he did not want to be.

This metaphor resonates and reverberates in our lives.  We could go around today and each share a moment we mumbled and uttered the words, “How in the world did I end up here?”  It could be an actual location, it might relate to a medical condition or a spiritual location.  It can certainly happen in our relationships, when our words cause us to take an unexpected exit ramp or our actions create tension with someone we love.  The apostle Paul was right that we do the very thing we don’t want to do.  To say that I make bonehead decisions implies that I was actually thinking.  Usually, my mind is trying to suggest or even shout, “For all that holy don’t say that!”  But too late.  The words have fallen from my lips.  To which, in response, my brains frustratingly fumes, “That’s it.  I am out here.”  My brain heads to Tarishish where there is gold, silver, and peacocks, who probably listen better than I do.  Back to our hero, covered in fish drool, probably not smelling the best, in that place, Nineveh, where he never wanted to be, ever.  We are told that Nineveh is a large city, it would have taken three days to walk across.  Remember, cities were fortified and had guards, gatekeepers who would watch to see who was coming and going.  Jonah walks up the gate, and says to the guard, what exactly?  Here is someone who just spent three days in the belly of a fish, someone who maybe who is mumbling under his breath to himself, fuming with frustration, and you just let waltz in?

Pause with me for a just a moment to prayerfully ponder where are you right now where you'd rather not be? 

For me, I am dealing with insurance after someone rear-ended my car ~ I'd rather not be there.
Or trying to address an air conditioner that has failed at church ~ I'd rather not be there.
Or waiting for the rain to quit so I can go take a walk.

There are lots of places where we are right now that we would rather not be.  To name those and claim those is one way to process the pain rather than pass it along.

May the continued far-fetched and farce-like moments of Jonah's story, help you notice traces of God's grace in your story.