I digress. Back to the reason I'm even telling you about the fish. Towards the end of the summer my mom, dad and I went out to dinner. After we returned home, mom went to feed the fish (yes, we actually remembered). The usual routine goes something like this: turn on the light over the fishbowl, tap on the glass, watch the fish get excited, drop in three food morsels then watch the fish eat them. Fairly simple. This night, however, was no typical night. After tapping... and tapping... and tapping... mom said that she couldn't find the fish. Sometimes the curved glass plays tricks on the eyes, so I went to lend my assistance. No fish. So, we began to joke about the dog eating the fish, the fish making a break for it, the fish succumbing to its identity crisis, etc. That's about when mom decided to check under the table.
There he/she was. Gloop. Prissy Fishy. Flopping around on the floor. I watched from the couch (where I ran upon the sight of the fish flipping around on our kitchen floor) as Butch grabbed the fish and tossed it back into the bowl. For days I was astonished by the stupidity of the fish. I mean really... it was born in the water and has always lived in the water. It has a very spacious fish bowl all to itself. There is a big, fluffy white dog outside the water with hunger in her eyes. So why why why would the fish jump out of the bowl? It ran through my head on repeat: stupid fish.
Then one day it hit me. I am the fish. We all are. I am a Christian. I live an amazingly blessed life in God and have never wanted for anything. He has a will for my life and I am asked to do nothing to earn His grace and mercy. Sometimes, though, I knowingly choose to do things that I know God would not approve of. Things that do not reflect my beliefs. Things that won't inspire others to choose God's love for their life. I know that in His will there is peace and comfort. I know that His love cannot be matched by any earthly pleasure. I know that there will be consequences in my life if I stray, and yet I do. I stray. I disobey. I jump out of the water... leap from my fish bowl. Then I flop around in sin and materialism, unable to save myself from the mistakes I've made.
The beauty lies in the grace. The mercy. Every time I leap from the fish bowl God swoops down, plucks me off of the kitchen floor and tosses me right back in. He does not judge me for it. He does not reprimand me. He simply tosses me back in and gives me a second chance. And a third. And a fourth. All because He send His son thousands of years ago to die for my sins, knowing full well that I would still, from time to time, jump from the fish bowl, filled with His love and promises for my life.
The best part? Prissy Fishy lived! She is still going strong and living as a beautiful (and slimy) reminder of the amazing love, grace and mercy of our Father. She even made the trip to Auburn to live with Drew... which I guess makes her a him named Gloop... again.