Talking To Myself
I was talking to myself the other day. Not in the fun, “Self, what are you doing?” kind of way. Instead, I heard myself call out, Where ARE you, Mom? Where are you? It was a moment of weakness. And, as I write it now, I wonder if it actually classifies as talking to myself since I was really talking to my mom. But I’ll consider it self-talk because I can’t speak to her; she’s been gone for thirteen years.
Mom was my bounce. You know, the person who you bounce ideas off of—the one who helps you figure things out. As a kid, if I ever had a question Mom didn’t know the answer to, she’d say, “Let’s look it up!” and we would head to the bookshelves. First, we scoured the encyclopedias and dictionaries in multiple languages. If we couldn’t find answers there we’d move on to medical books, anatomy and physiology books, The Merck Manual, the globe, road maps, and world maps. Then, after we had researched, we would discuss our findings. It’s empowering to know that if you don’t know the answer, you can find it. She always made learning fun.
But this day – I had no sounding board. There was only the echo of my own voice in the room, and I wept. She was the one person I desperately wanted to talk to about what was going on with my daughter. It wasn’t that I thought she’d know the answer – even the doctors are stumped; I just missed her ear. As I got myself under control, a portion of the sermon I’d listened to on Sunday struck me. The pastor had spoken about when Jesus called Peter to be His disciple. Peter was on the shore washing his nets because he had worked all night and caught nothing. He was giving up for the day. But, Jesus instructed Peter to throw his nets back out again, and Peter’s nets were filled to overflowing.
God Knows What We Don’t
What struck me about the sermon was that Peter and the others were washing their nets. They had given up because they saw no other option. They had tried their hardest but had made no progress. I definitely understood that sentiment at the moment – it was why I had called out for my mother. And, calling out to her reminded me to pray. Jesus saw what they didn’t see. He knew that the fish were there, and he told them how to find them. He instructed Peter to try again because He knew what Peter didn’t. The fish were there – right below the surface. At that moment, I whispered a prayer of thanks because God knows what I don’t. And He is faithful.