Back At The Lake

They call it “retail therapy”.   She can feel the excitement building as she whips her shiny new car, into the parking space.  Work was crap today.   No matter how hard she works, it’s always the same… somebody is complaining and she’s never enough.  The “career” that she thought was going to finally fulfill her and make her feel important, is actually  just a paycheck.  The disappointment of finally reaching the zenith only to find out there’s nothing there, it’s all just vapor has left her empty inside.  So, she goes shopping.   She can feel the rush as soon as the click of her heels hits the linoleum.  New aviator sunglasses, lip-plumping gloss and a cute pair of sandals quickly find their way in her basket and she’s feeling euphoric.  Shopping always makes her feel better.  Walking up to the register, the feel of cold plastic in her hands, probably feels just like the rush of the addicts’ needle.  The fact that she had to open a new charge account, because all the others are maxed out is a problem she will deal with later.  Walking out she knows she must hide the evidence, so she throws the receipt in the trash and tucks the bags under the back seat of the car…  she’s got to make sure her husband doesn’t see her coming in with another bag, because that’s sure to cause a fight.  She’s figured out if he never sees her carry the stuff in, he doesn’t know any difference from the new and old.  In the back of her mind she knows she’s putting a lot at risk for such a short-lived thrill.

Sitting on a barstool in a Chili’s an hour away from his house, he’s thinking he should really go home.  He loves his wife and his kids, he really does, it might not look like it from the outside, but he does.  He’s already ordered a whiskey and coke and as he sips on it, borrowing courage, he waits for her.  They met at work.  They laugh over the same stupid office jokes, making fun of people, like the  brown noser and the flirt who shows all her business and the skinny nerd with all the answers.   She’s young and cute and she makes him feel young and alive again.  The blood is pumping in his veins as he waits in anticipation for the next few hours.  He knows what he’s risking, but the pain is worth the pleasure.  If his wife found out he was doing this again, she’d leave and take his kids with her.   She hates him, he can see it in her eyes every day, the disappointment and disgust, because she had some fairy tale in mind when they got married.  Truth is… so did he.  He really believed she was the one that was going to make him feel like a man and with her life was going to exceed his expectations.  Reality bites.  He knows everything he’s risking doing this again, but he sits there waiting.

It’s a Tuesday night, the kids are in finally in bed.  Tension, stress, and frustration have been a constant companion all day.  She has all she could have ever dreamed of, an amazing husband, beautiful kids, nice house, and yet there are things she didn’t dream of.  She never dreamed she would say the things that she says to her kids.  She never dreamed it was all going to be this hard.  Another night ended in ugly words and guilty feelings.  Sitting in the living room, tv playing in the background, thumbing blinding through Facebook, she pops the top on a can.  Taking the first few sips, it only takes seconds for the knot in the back of her neck to disappear.  Minutes later the stress of the day has completely melted away.  She knows this isn’t really going to solve any problems.  In fact, she will wake up tomorrow tired and groggy and the cycle will start again…  but even though she knows it only makes things worse… she pops the top again and the rush of alcohol hits her bloodstream making her forget for now.

Sitting in the Doctor’s office, he rehearses what he’s going to say.  The Doctor is going to tell him that he doesn’t need the pills and that the dose he’s on is enough, maybe he should see a therapist, it’s all in his head, but he knows he needs those pills.  He used the month's prescription in just 2 weeks and he’s been having withdrawals for days, he’s already anxious and the sweat is beading on his brow and his hands are clammy.  He hates being here.  He hates the way people look at him, like he’s a freak, because stuff that “normal” people don’t get worked up about he does.  He hates life really.  The only thing that makes him feel ok is the pills.  It sucks majorly that they don’t last forever.  The truth is they don’t make him feel better… they make him feel nothing and nothing is exactly what he wants to feel.  He doesn’t want to feel sad, or lonely, or invisible. He wants to feel numb, dead would be even better.  He knows the pills are not making life better, but he needs them anyway.

She finds herself in the drive-thru line again.  It’s been a horrible day.  Screw the diet, she just wants to feel the rush of the Dr. Pepper hit her veins and the smell of the French fries wafting from the McDonald’s has already made her physically relax.  Just knowing in five minutes she can pull over in the parking lot and tear into the bag makes her feel almost happy.  She eats alone, because she cannot stand for people to look at her with disgust.  Stupid people, like they don’t eat every freaking day too.  But, she pulls into the last parking spot with a lone tree surrounded by concrete to shade her.  Here she’s safe to eat in peace and she’s happy for the first time today.  The fries are perfect, and the DP is just what she needed, but the burger is gone before she realizes she’s eaten it.   Maybe she should pull around and order another, but they would probably recognize her.  Maybe she’ll just go to DQ across the street and get a shake.  Decision made she starts the car up to head across the intersection.  She knows what she’s risking… health, feeling good about herself… but the temptation to fix her feelings with food is just too strong.

He sits down at the computer, pushes the power button, waiting for the browser to pop up.  The anticipation is building in his veins as his mind is already conjuring images that his imagination can feast on.  He didn’t mean to get into this kind of thing… it was actually by accident when he clicked on an innocent looking pop-up add one night when he couldn’t sleep.  Hours later he came out of a fog, feeling sick with guilt for what he had just spent hours looking at.  If his parents ever found out about this obsession he would be in so much trouble.  They think he’s gaming and they never give him any grief.  They never ask why he turned his desk around facing the door and they never check to see what’s on his computer, but he’s careful anyway, making sure to hide the evidence of his online fantasy world. Everyday he tells himself he’s not going to do this again, but every day he fails again.  Sadly, he’s lost interest in football and he hasn’t hung out with his friends lately… even though he knows this is sick, and he’ll be consumed with guilt later, nothing excites him quite like what he sees on this screen.

He felt like a ball of frustration and anger and self-loathing.  Everything had gone wrong.  He was confused and tired and angry and he wanted to be numb.  He didn’t want to feel or think anymore.  There was only one thing that could make him feel numb.  Peter, sick of feeling disappointed, abruptly stood up, looked at the men around him and said, “I’m going fishing.”  His friends decided to come along and now he found himself standing on the boat, with the familiar feel of the waves rocking beneath him.  Balancing himself against the sway of the boat felt good, it felt right, it felt comfortable.  The water reflecting the morning sun, the breeze touching his face and smell of fish were exactly what his weary soul longed for.  The only problem being the fact that he would never be able to escape what had happened in the last couple of days.  He was still in shock.  Jesus, the Messiah, his best friend had been arrested, beaten and nailed to a cross and he, Peter, had betrayed him.  He had denied knowing him and he had run, when he said he would stay and die with him.  Now Jesus was dead and nothing made sense.  He couldn’t sort out the jumbled mess that was in his head.  He didn’t know how to fix this or if he would ever get over this, but he knew that fishing would as least make him feel nothing for a while. 

Instead of making Peter feel better, fishing today actually made him feel more like a loser…  how bad was it when a fisherman couldn’t even catch fish?  With empty nets, they decided to head back to shore.  Distracted by his self-loathing, he didn’t see the man standing on the shore, but hearing someone call out he looked up, barely catching the greeting called out across the water…  “Friends, you don’t have any fish, do you?”

Thanks for stating the obvious stranger, Peter thought, but he called out, “No,” instead of what he wanted to say.  The man on shore said, “Cast out on the right side of the boat, and you’ll find some.”  Oh, really, Peter thinks, but something seems familiar about this episode and about the man on shore, so they threw their nets out on the other side of the boat and fish throw themselves in the net and some distant memory comes rushing to Peter’s mind, of the first time Peter had met Jesus.  In the background he hears someone call out, “It’s the Lord.”  Realizing that Jesus really was standing at the shore calling out to them and that He had called them friends made something in Peter crack.  Frantically, pulling his outer clothes around him, he plunged into the water, unable to wait for the boat to carry him to shore.  He had to get to Jesus.  Even though Peter was frantic to get to Jesus, he hesitated for a moment, not knowing how Jesus would respond, but Jesus rushed to him and wrapped his arms around Peter in a bear hug.  The love and forgiveness that Peter knew in that moment was the purest feeling he ever known.   Peter allowed the shame and self-hate to melt away because He knew that in spite of all that he had done wrong and all the times he had messed up he was loved and forgiven. 

Later that morning, Jesus took Peter aside and restored him completely and fully and commissioned him to carry on the work that Jesus was doing.  Somewhere in Peter’s confused mind he realized that only now after he had been broken could he be fully used by God.  Somehow, he had a new understanding that the Kingdom of God was not about over-throwing earthly kingdoms, but it was about forgiveness and restoration and reconciliation, and now Peter knew how to follow Jesus better.  He understood now that the most power thing in the world was forgiveness. 

Going back to the lake was how Peter handled his problems when his shame kept him from Jesus.  Going back to the lake is what we do when we go back to that familiar comfort instead of going to Jesus.  It’s that old thing that never helped us before, but we lie to ourselves that maybe this time will be different.  It’s never different.  I’m not sure what is driving you back to the lake, but I do know that Jesus is standing on the shore calling out to you friend.  He’s saying you won’t find what you’re looking for there…  somehow the net is always empty.  He is saying I have what you need…  Friend, come to me.