The Coin in the Fish's Mouth

In the past year or so, I've been trying to find solutions to some challenges in my life. It seems everywhere I turn, I come up against another roadblock. Last week, I hit the wall and was very frustrated with a couple of long-standing issues. While talking with a friend about what was going on, she reminded me of the story of Jesus and the coin in the fish's mouth.

When Jesus and his disciples came to Capernaum, the tax collectors came to Peter and asked him to pay the taxes. Jesus said to Peter, "Go to the lake and throw out your line. Take the first fish you catch; open its mouth and you will find a 4-drachma coin. Take it and give it to them for my tax and yours" (Matthew 17:27).

My friend supposed that Jesus wanted his disciples to look for answers in unexpected places. To keep an open mind to what good, what possibilities, may be present. To not lose hope even when things seem dark or scary or without a way out. This story of Jesus, and this explanation, brought me so much inspiration and hope.

I thought of other times in my life when an answer came in an unexpected way. One example is that there have been a couple times in my life where people have given me a used but well-running car when I needed transportation. What a gift, to find yourself without a dependable car, and to have someone suddenly say, "Oh, I have an extra car. You can have it." Another example was when I needed some help with something, and the help was donated by a group of people, the majority of whom I didn't even know. It was very unexpected, but so needed and so full of love. That night, after talking with my friend, I immediately thought of many examples of unexpected solutions that had blessed my life, things that seemed unimaginable but nonetheless came into my experience. People who came into my life and helped me and blessed me more than I can say. Healing experiences, moments where I felt God's presence, seemingly impossible situations where the answers were finally uncovered. Such gifts that were there right when I needed them. "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning" (James 1:17).

Sometimes when I am so focused on finding the answers to problems, I tend to look at the problems instead of to the solutions. I focus so much on what is before me, the challenge or the pain or the conflict. What I want to do, what would probably be more beneficial, is to keep an open mind about every possible solution that might be out there, and also know that many times, the solution that will come will be something I hadn't even thought of. Maybe Jesus is just encouraging us to think outside the box, and to keep praying, because we never know how the answer will come.

There are still a couple of issues I am facing which I don't know the answers to. And everyone has some challenges, maybe even some incredibly overwhelming problems, that they are dealing with, things that do not seem to have answers. And I think it is common to begin to lose hope after we struggle and fight, and search for solutions, and still the problem doesn't seem to be yielding. But after being reminded of the story of the coin in the fish's mouth, I suddenly felt so much hope again. For myself, for my friends and family, for people in my community who are all searching for answers. God has so much good, so much love, and infinite ways to express it and pour all that good into our lives.

The Little Things

When I graduated from college and my best friend and I had to reluctantly live in 2 different cities, I found that my main concern was that I would miss the little things about our friendship. How, every Tuesday and Thursday, we would go for a walk after school. How we would leave little notes for each other to find, or uncannily be able to track each other down on campus even before either of us had a cell phone. And if I needed anything, how I could just leave my front door, walk 20 steps to the right, and knock on her front door. The day-to-day stuff that was small but enriched the friendship with details that were dear and meaningful to me.

I didn't worry about the big stuff. I knew we were important in each other's lives, and that she was like a sister to me. That she would do anything for me. Those were the big themes, the foundation, the structure and sturdiness, of the friendship. No matter where we ended up in the world, I knew those were unshakable. Why worry about something set in stone? But I knew the little things would disappear once we both moved away. My friend tried to tell me that the little things didn't matter in the overall picture; I somewhat agreed with her, and I still do. But I sort of loved the little things.

I find the same struggle when dealing with grief. Thinking of a friend who passed away a few months ago, I find I am missing the same little minutia of the friendship. The random voicemail or text message that made me laugh and brightened my day, the little jokes we had, the ways we touched each other's hearts and cracked each other up by a small gesture or comment. The phrases we repeated to each other because they were meaningful to the friendship; stupid, ridiculous little things that would mean nothing to anyone else, and yet somehow I attached so much meaning to them. Again, I don't seem too bothered by the big things, as those are solid. I know she loved me, I know she isn't really gone, and I know I will see her again. But what I wouldn't do for 1 more teeny tiny voicemail, one more message that was full of the vibrancy and intensity that was her; as if that encompassed the friendship in any way.

On the other hand, the little things have saved me time and time again. On particularly rough days, when it seems all I can do to just simply work my way through 405 traffic and stumble into my house, I remember all of the little blessings in my life. A kind word from my boss that day, a funny email from a friend, a kiss from my puppy Vinnie. Again, these do not encompass the relationships, but they are the small kindnesses and gifts that actually seem so big at the right moment. Last year, during some rougher times, I didn't seem to be able to see the big gifts in my life, but for some reason I was able to see the smaller ones. After a horrible day, I would sit down and think about what redeeming qualities that day had. A coworker complimented me on a report I had written. Someone sent me a card in the mail. A friend invited me over for ice cream. And I would think, "Okay, this day was okay," and that would allow me to have energy and hope for the next day. I am grateful to be able to see the big gifts now, but appreciate that at that point in my life, at least I was able to see the smaller things. Which, actually, were pretty huge for me. 

There is a part of me that wants to get to a point where I see the big picture, and not get bogged down in the details. And then the other part of me sees so much beauty and love and life in the details. All the little things that I would otherwise take for granted, would not notice, would brush off as being unimportant. I do have a tendency to let the details consume me sometimes, but there has to be a balance between the two. Seeing the big and the little and finding the gifts in each.

For now, I'm so grateful for all of the ways that love is expressed, in the monumental and the minuscule. There is so much love, and so many different ways to see it and experience it.