Cast Out the Nets Again

Fishing is sometimes a futile activity. Time and time again, you cast out, hoping for a catch. But the bait disappears, or the line breaks, or nothing wants to bite. You wait and wait and wait and nothing appears, or the catches are too small, or not the right fish. All you have is wasted time and nothing to show for it.

But sometimes, there are plenty of fish. Abundance seems to be the name of the game as casts bring forth fish and catching to limits seem easy.

Hope is a lot like fishing.

Sometimes there is no reward for us even as we try our best. We throw out our bait and nothing bites. We cast our nets and capture little to show for our adventures. We hope and hope and hope, even when all seems lost, because we wish for a better world, a happier time, a different era, or a new beginning. We keep trying to catch the big one, even when it seems utterly pointless to do so.

But then, sometimes, hope can come in the most ordinary of ways. It’s that small nibble that yields the first fish. It’s the first sip of coffee after a trying night. It’s a loved one making your favorite meal when you’ve come home from a devastating day. It’s a simple spoken sentence that brings up a bubble of joy despite the rain clouds in one’s mind.

Hope also grows like a contagion. It’s the spark of joy in finding a gift left by a friend who thought of you, which is then multiplied because you seek to do an act of kindness for someone else. It’s in sending a card or note to someone who may be in a dark place, enabling them to keep going and finding their own words to share with someone else. It’s in a touch of kindness to a stranger. It’s casting out the nets just one more time, even when you want to give up and finding that catch that nearly breaks the boat.

Hope spreads like a wildfire in this way. As we receive it, we pass it on, giving it away to someone else until, like a pandemic, it covers the world

We find we’ve caught one fish, then another, and another. We cast out our nets again, finding that what we hoped for was there all along, waiting for the right moment to fill us up.

I’m reminded of the scene in the movie Forrest Gump where Forrest and Lt. Dan start out their adventure as a shrimping boat captain and first mate. They venture out, time and time again, catching nothing but some trash and a handful of shrimp. Forrest tries everything to help him, including naming the boat and praying to God. Despite his hope that shrimping will be a success, nothing seems to work. But then Hurricane Carmen strikes and the two men ride out the storm on the boat. Because the Jenny is the only boat to survive the storm in Bayou Le Batre, the nets are full, bringing to fruition the hope that Forrest never seemed to lose.

Hope is magical that way.

Dear readers, never lose sight of hope. It is sometimes the greatest thing one can hold on to. Whether it comes as just one tiny fish on a line or a net full of possibilities, it does come. It is part of that story we write every day.

Cast out the nets again. You may find the motherload.

Stay magical. Write your own story.

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