Free The Fisherman by Larry Huntsperger Page A

away from home. My grand plan for night fishing was being postponed far longer than I had anticipated, and though I didn’t dare discuss the subject with Jesus, I was a mess by the time we finally returned home.
    We arrived back in Bethsaida in the early afternoon, exactly four weeks from the day we left. In some ways it seemed as if I had been gone a year. So much had happened since that morning when I peeked out on a sea of damaged humanity in front of our house. It was wonderful seeing Ruth again and telling her all about our trip. I was relieved to find out that friends and family who knew I was traveling with Jesus had met her needs during my absence. But it was also good to know I could once again take over that responsibility.
    We were all exhausted from the trip, but I persuaded Andrew, James, and John that there was no telling how long Jesus would remain home. It was essential for us to implement our nighttime fishing strategy immediately. We rested a few hours, ate dinner with the family, and then headed to the boats.
    I cannot recall a worse fishing experience in my life than the twelve hours we spent on the Sea of Galilee that night. The wind howled, making both the rowing and the fishing an agonizing experience. There was only a sliver of a moon, and the near total darkness made it almost impossible to position our boats accurately, to see where our nets had been thrown, or to see what was in them when we brought them up, though in truth we didn’t need to see to know what was in our nets. Throughout the entire night we fought the waves, cast our nets, hauled them in, fought the waves, cast our nets, hauled them in, again and again, and never caught a single fish. We went from frustration, to irritation, to helpless anger, to despair. As the sun rose we finally folded our nets and fought our way back to the shore.
    The scene that greeted us on the beach was almost more than I could handle. Word of Jesus’ return home had spread quickly throughout the region. Jesus was standing at the water’s edge with several hundred people packed around him. Many at the back of the crowd were attempting to squirm closer to the Master, which only caused the mass to pack in around Jesus more and more tightly. His feet were already in the water, but with none of us there to establish a perimeter around him, the crowd continued to surge forward.
    We beached our boats a few feet on either side of Jesus with the hope of providing him with some measure of protection. James, John, and Andrew hopped out and tried to clear a little area around him, so he could at least stand up without being driven into the sea. I went to the back of our boat and began cleaning our nets. I was grumpy and exhausted and in no mood for yet another mob scene.
    Then, as I wrestled with a tangle in one of the nets, I suddenly felt the boat shift under the weight of someone jumping aboard. I turned around and saw Jesus looking at me.
    â€œSay, Simon, why don’t we push out a few feet from the shore so I can teach without being driven into the sea in the process?”
    He knew I was grumpy. He knew I was tired. He knew I had been out fishing all night. But he also knew I was finally ready for my first lesson in the difference between life in the flesh and life in the Spirit. He had me trapped, and he seemed to be well pleased with the arrangement.
    Andrew gave us a push away from the shore, then jumped on board himself. We let the boat float out about thirty feet, then dropped the anchor. As soon as the crowd saw that no amount of pushing and shoving would get them near enough to touch Jesus, they settled down, then sat down on the beach.
    Jesus sat at the front of our boat and taught for several hours that morning. He spoke on one of his favorite themes—the heavenly Father’s willingness and ability to provide for those who trust him. His words sounded great, but everything he said just made me feel more grumpy. Talking about