6
Keep Casting Your Nets

It was my letting go that gave me a better hold.

—Chris Matakas

I have the words “keep casting your nets” written on a kraft envelope and taped to the wall above my desk.

This simple sentence, from a story in the book of John, is offering me some calibration these days. It’s a reminder that my response, much more than my results, is what creates meaning in my life. To the point that sometimes I feel like God is saying to me, “Frankly, Leeana, the results are none of your business.”

According to the account in Scripture, the disciples were out on the Sea of Galilee fishing. They had spent the entire night casting their nets but caught nothing. Not. One. Thing.

It’s dawn. They’re exhausted. Their labors seem futile. And someone calls to them from the shore. It’s Jesus, though they don’t know that immediately. He says, “Cast your nets again on the right side of the boat.”

They do, and their nets are so full they can’t haul in the catch.

keep = continue showing up bravely and

casting = offering

your = no one else’s

nets = what God has put in your hands

Leeana, keep . . .

I cast laundry into the washing machine and then into the dryer. I cast dishes into warm, soapy water. I cast tubes of yogurt into lunch bags and meals into the oven. I cast words into the world. I cast love out to my children, my husband, my family, my friends. Some days, this feels mostly effortless, like I’m smack-dab in the center of what I was made to do and be. And then there are the other days. When I’m filled with self-doubt because nothing seems to be working.

And God says, “Keep doing the work I have given you today. Continue the work of feeding, nurturing, creating, ideating, hoping, holding, wondering, believing, listening. Keep doing the sacred work. Do not grow weary in doing good because at the right time, the fullness will materialize.”1

Trusting our try over the mystery of God’s miracles is not freedom; it’s fear. Paralysis and cynicism are ways we distrust him and doubt ourselves. He’s asking us to show up, come out from behind our fear of failure or fear of purposelessness. We have the choice whether or not we will do the vulnerable work of showing up. Participation, not perfection, is what’s so brazen.

Leeana, keep casting . . .

Every day, God asks me to cast the nets of mothering, marriage, and making. Some days I’m sure I don’t have what it takes to offer what God is asking me to offer. These words taped to my wall serve as a reminder to keep showing up even on the days when I’m plagued with self-doubt, even on the days when I’m a stammering Moses. Even on those days, which are most days, when I am to keep giving my offering.

What’s interesting is that the etymology of the word offering implies a sacrificial element. So it follows that our offering is not something we come by easily. It’s something we fight for. It’s something that costs us. I will not offer that which costs me nothing.2 An offering is something we give away. It’s something we let go of. It’s something we set down. You can’t really offer something and keep your hands on it. You’re giving this love, this creation, this artistry, this contribution, this dream . . . away.

I heard a podcast with Oprah Winfrey in which she was talking about the origins of her epic documentary series on faith, “Belief.” She related a conversation she and Maya Angelou had years ago when Angelou made this prophetic comment: “Oprah, right now you’re in show business. But someday you’re going to be about your Father’s business.”

Oprah said she spent her entire adult life listening to other people, and now she had something to say. Her message to the world, and her fulfillment of Maya Angelou’s prediction, is this documentary. Oprah personally financed the entire enterprise because, she said, and these were exact words, “It is my offering.” Isn’t that beautiful.

Doesn’t it make sense that real, enduring purpose comes from sacrificially giving back to God what he has put into our hands and trusting that what is meant to come back to us will, in fact, come back to us?

For any number of reasons, some of you have given up on what you want to offer, and God is still standing on the shore, asking you to cast your nets one more time. Perhaps you’ve ditched your desires because your nets have come up empty one too many times. Maybe it has nothing to do with how many fish you are or aren’t going to catch on this cast. Maybe, instead, it has everything to do with the vulnerability of offering your soul even with no guarantees.

Because here’s what strikes me: Nothing in the fishing story changed from the late-night net casting to the early-dawn net casting. The lake was still the same. The fish were still the same. The boat was still the same. I’d even bet the guys’ casting technique was still the same. The disciples had done nothing different.

So what changed? God called. They responded. That’s the only thing we know of that changed. The call and response turned emptiness to fullness. While I very much like the happy ending of this story, I wonder if the disciples’ response, more than the results, is the point of the narrative.

If we respond to God’s call, will he change our luck? I’m not so sure. I do know, however, that he’ll touch our hearts. We want to catch a solution in our nets. He wants to be our Savior, to be the voice we listen to. And there is something about continuing to cast even when, especially when, we are not in control that changes us.

We fold another load of laundry. We pack a lunch. We tend to an elderly parent. We show up at the soup kitchen. We kick butt at a board meeting. We create space to listen. We take the time to create. We get our hands moving. We do the work.

Leeana, keep casting your . . .

If you don’t know what you are supposed to be offering, if you have no idea at all, it’s OK. I’m here to tell you, it’s OK. There’s a soul-spinning amount of talk about calling and vocation. So much so that a girl could wind up feeling like she’s the only one in the world who doesn’t know exactly what she’s supposed to be investing her time and energy in.

I don’t think we can ever go wrong with asking God to help us see what we are to offer. I truly believe he wants to show us because I know that one of the saddest things in all the world is when we believe we’ve got to be something other or different from God’s design.

You are just to keep casting your nets. We do not compare our nets to someone else’s, our cast to someone else’s, our haul to someone else’s. It’s practically impossible to keep our wandering eyes off everyone else’s work and focus on the task we have been given for the day. But I believe, as you undoubtedly do, that comparison is one of the biggest traps there is.

Friend, just do you. And if you don’t know what it means to “do you,” then start there in your next twenty minutes of soul time.

Leeana, keep casting your nets . . .

I look down at my hands to see what God has put in them and I return to that work, that love, that doing, that dabbling. Daily, I ask God to help me focus less and less on results and more and more on my response.

I cast my nets again. I fold another load of laundry for my family: Steve’s uniform, Luke’s baseball jersey, the girls’ Frozen pajamas. I hold a child close to me. I turn toward my husband. I pick up a pen.

Some days I have trouble reconciling the demands of what’s been placed in my hands with my own resources. Such was the case with practically every human in the Bible: “You want me to do what, God? You want me to go where? You want me to say what? To whom? Uh, I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

We cast the love nets over our kids, but we have no control over whether or not they will “turn out.” We cast nets over our work, but we cannot strangle our work into submission or success. That doesn’t mean we give up. It just means we learn to give up the white-knuckling that comes from thinking it’s all up to us. Our codependence on our work, on our kids, on our results is not where we flourish. If anything, that death-grasp is where we wither.

Instead, we ask God to show us how we might cast our nets from our “onward wait”—our abiding—instead of our effort. We ask God to show us how to hold the tension of our response and the results. We ask God to remind us, yet again, that it’s all holy. The laundry, the making, the moving, the shaking, the dabbling, the desiring, the dreaming, the waking. It’s all holy. The rest is none of our business.

Reflection & Expression

God, in what area of my life are you asking me to keep casting my nets?

For Your Brazen Board

What are some of the offerings you cast out into the world? Find an image that represents that offering.

Add the words “keep casting your nets” or “it’s all holy” or “the results are none of my business.”