The weather is rainy today. What a rain-cloud it is that envelops the sky and says: your sun has disappeared, I will be standing in today. The lousy kind of substitute—or maybe the nice kind, depending on your mood and disposition toward melancholy or romanticism.
I feel like I have a great secret when I walk in the rain. It’s great fun. Smiling and laughing underneath my hood, which keeps falling down, making my face all streaked with rain. Sometimes a car drives by and splashes me with streetwater. At first: a temptation to become irritated. But then: oh, why bother! Let’s just let the whole body—top to toe—get wet and rejoice in the reckless abandon.
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I can hardly believe how quickly the time flies. October now. Halloween soon! Always a favorite holiday of mine. I love the feeling in the air: how to describe it? Crisp, lovely, full of childhood memory? I don’t know, but it’s a lovely time and the decorations are perfectly enchanting…. The idea of magic puts quickness in your step and an extra bite in the cold air.
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Time now for my tea!…
How quickly the cup was drained! Some good things are very brief.
Of course, other good things are very long.
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Why do you hesitate? There’s no use in delay. Be kind, be kind, be a kind-hearted girl. That’s all you know on Earth, and all you need to know. Amen!
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First: we talk about the need to be heard.
What does this mean? Well, it means that you have a voice and the only thing to do is to use it. Wisely, of course. But not using it at all destroys the gift before it can do the thing it was meant to do.
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Out of the belly of the finish Jonah called for help. He hollered: LORD, I’m on my knees in the belly of a fish—where can I go? Now, Jonah was a small man, and the fish was large, but the cave was dark and dingy and if you lit a candle, it would be impossible to sort out the fish from the man. They were entangled like a worm caught on a hook—inseparable except for the mercy of the hand that pierced it.
What does this have to do with you? you say. The story is a parable. That means it is useful if you sit down and ponder it with a desire to understand. Often a parable will be obscure until the moment in which you throw up your hands and exclaim: I can’t understand! This is lost on me! I will never make heads or tails of this thing. It is then, at the moment of surrender, that you feel a light click on and you begin to be illuminated. See?
Jonah was sitting in the belly of the fish and thinking: what will happen if I live? What will happen if I die? Will my fate matter either way? I only see one foot before me; a string of endless days is beyond my grasp. But lo! The LORD has told me to be patient, and to wait on Him. I will not accept my death until He brings it to me and says: Jonah, the time is yours now to come and join Me in this land.
So Jonah waited and the LORD came and brought him rescue. But Jonah’s life was not easy after that. True, he didn’t end up in the belly of a fish again, but he did have to honor God and this meant he couldn’t keep on doing the stupid things he used to do in his youth. No more lazy lies or frivolous pursuits. No more hiding-games! He was yoked to a greater meaning and the responsibility sat on his shoulders: not as a burden, but as a reminder that kept him steered toward the straight and narrow path.
Still, you say: what does this mean for me? How can this matter in my life? These parables mean nothing to me!
Well, my friend, this is the thing you need to hear: You are a child of God, too. Jonah’s blood is in your veins, and the bellies of the fish aren’t so obvious, but you live in them anyway: the cupboard of lies, the closet of coats, the dirty classroom where children bully children, and the empty courthouses where ghosts of fighting husbands and wives lurk at night. What dark caverns! Lighting a candle is a start, but it’s not enough. How can you see even a foot beyond your face?
The answer is to ask for help. If you seek the help you need, you will always find it. You can never err into darkness when the need is urgent and the desire is sincere. I promise you this much. And if you ever forget the way out of the fish’s belly, just recall: the bitterest bread is the bread you poison with your own fear. Or, to say it in another tongue: be kind and give thanks and the way will open before you, wider than you thought.
This is all a tangle of words, perhaps, but the meaning you take from it will be the one you need to hear!
(Illustration credit: E. H. Shepard.)