Free The Fisherman by Larry Huntsperger Page B

God’s care and provision was fine, but after fishing for a full night without a single fish to show for it, the application part of this whole thing left something to be desired.
    When he finished his teaching, he turned to me and said, “Now, Simon, put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
    I couldn’t let this pass without saying something. I was tired. I was hungry. I felt like I had just been preached at by a deeply sincere man who wasn’t in touch with the practical realities of life. Maybe I didn’t know as much about the sacred writings as I should, but I knew a whole lot about fishing, and I knew there were no fish out there—not today, not in this location. It was time to introduce Jesus to my area of expertise.
    â€œMaster, we worked hard all night and caught nothing, but at your request I will let down the nets.”
    There! That was as tactful as I could be. If he wanted to go on a little fishing trip after his morning teaching session, I would do that for him, but he might as well know the truth right now—there would be no fish in the net.
    Andrew and I pulled the boat out a couple hundred feet from the shore. We both knew it was a terrible location, but after last night we also knew it didn’t really matter. This wasn’t about fishing; this was about giving Jesus a relaxing little boat trip and escaping from the crowds for a few hours.
    I must admit I became rather parental with Jesus at that point. If he wanted a fishing lesson, I would give him a fishing lesson. I went into great detail showing him how to correctly hold the net for proper casting, how to coordinate the back, leg, shoulder, and arm muscles to get good distance from the throw. After introducing him to the basics I gave a demonstration throw, dropping the net just where I wanted it to go. With one painful exception several years later, that was the last time I ever cast that net.
    Few things in my life have impacted me more deeply than what took place during the next few minutes. Having completed Simon’s little lesson in professional fishing, I started to pull the empty net back to the boat. Then, suddenly the water between our boat and the net began to churn and roll as if it were boiling. The turmoil under the surface was so intense it caused the boat to rock violently. The rope in my hand went instantly tight, and I braced myself and pulled with all my strength. At the same instant I saw what was causing the sea to churn—fish! Hundreds and hundreds of fish, more fish than I had ever seen in one place at one time in my life.
    I called to Andrew for help, and he grabbed hold and pulled with me. As we strained at the ropes, I peered over the side and was shocked to see what appeared to be several thousand fish all attempting to pack themselves into our net at once. It looked as though they were fighting for the honor of being caught. The weight of the net was far beyond our ability to handle, and I turned my head to shore and bellowed for James and John to come help. By the time they reached us, Andrew and I had been able to bring the edge of the net up high enough so that we could scoop fish into our boat. We scooped and scooped and scooped and scooped until the boat was so low in the water I was afraid we would sink. And still the net was packed with fish. We maneuvered the other boat alongside the net and filled it as well, then rowed the boats to shore, dragging the half-filled net behind us.
    The range of thoughts and emotions I experienced during that quarter hour of chaos was unlike anything I had ever known before. At the first sight of all those fish, my initial reaction was the kind of elated greed I always experienced with a great catch. But it wasn’t more than a few minutes before it became obvious even to me that what was happening here had nothing to do with fish. At one point in the harvesting process, I glanced up into Jesus’ eyes and saw once