Catch and Release

But the Lord replied, “Is it right for you to be angry?” – Jonah 4:4

In the mid-1990s, I organized a deep-sea fishing trip for a group of guys who loved to fish. Prior to this, I had only fished once, and the most memorable part of that experience was the trauma of putting my hand in a bait bucket full of crickets. Some friends found my discomfort hilarious and began calling me “Cricket.”

We hired a boat and a captain in Charleston harbor and set out on our journey. (Queue the theme from Gilligan’s Island.) It was a beautiful day, but the seas were far too rough for my liking. Thirty minutes into the all-day trip, Cricket began tossing everything in his stomach overboard—repeatedly.

The poor guy never truly recovered until his feet were back on solid ground. It was a long, grueling day. However, the rest of the crew managed to catch plenty of fish.

Rereading the Book of Jonah recently brought back memories of that once-unpleasant experience. Unlike Jonah, I didn’t get thrown overboard, but being stuck on that boat and enduring seasickness all day was tough. I imagine living three days inside a fish wasn’t much fun either.

But this recent study of Jonah has made me see that fish differently.

The fish was mercy.

Jonah received God’s mercy when he was rescued and restored, long before he fully understood what God was doing. Nineveh received mercy twice: first through the warning finally delivered by Jonah, and then when God relented from destroying them.

And the mercy didn’t stop there.

God gave Jonah a shade plant. Then came a worm, a scorching wind, and that uncomfortable question: “Is it right for you to be angry?”

Even those were mercy.

God wasn’t simply trying to make Jonah comfortable. He was trying to make Jonah more like Himself.

That realization has become increasingly important to me as I grow older. One of the hard lessons for seasoned citizens is the almost daily acclimation to loss. Our bodies begin breaking down. Friends and family relocate, and some leave this earth altogether. Change seems to accelerate at an uncomfortable pace.

Like Jonah beneath his shade plant, I’m discovering how easily familiar comforts can become expectations, and expectations can quietly become entitlements.

When that happens, we can miss the mercy right in front of us. We can even become bitter when yesterday’s gift isn’t included in today’s package.

Job had the right mindset when he said:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,
and naked I will depart.
The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;
may the name of the Lord be praised.” (Job 1:21)

Maybe part of growing in Christ is learning the spiritual practice of catch and release.

Catch the gifts. Enjoy them. Celebrate them. Give thanks for them.

But release the expectation that God is obligated to let us keep them.

Sometimes mercy looks like a shade tree. Sometimes it looks like a fish. Sometimes it looks like a worm. And sometimes it looks like God lovingly asking us a question we would rather not answer.

God’s mercy meets us where we are, but it never intends to leave us there.

Run the play. Catch the mercy. Release the entitlement. And keep looking for the goodness of God in places you never expected to find it.

Finding Our Place in the Story

What comfort, expectation, or season might God be inviting you to release so you can better recognize the mercy He is giving you today?