I’m convinced that water animals don’t survive unless they are happy. Perhaps we are hardier creatures, for it is possible for us to live through dire straits and still emerge with our faith strong. Let me explain.
My first experience with goldfish was obtained secondhand when I was not yet school age. My parents gifted me with a single goldfish, placed this tiny creature in a large goldfish bowl, fed him, and waited. This tiny creature did not last a day, and I was heartbroken. My parents were dumbfounded: What had gone wrong?
Today I think it was the tap water. But I have no proof. Maybe the little fish did not like a goldfish bowl as his new environment and died of a broken heart.
The same thing happened to my husband Paul’s secretary when he gifted her not with one, but several goldfish, over the course of two weeks. They all died quickly. Finally, she packed away the goldfish bowl by way of telling Paul not to try again. What had happened? Was it the tap water again?
I now know that one has to let water sit for a while before introducing a goldfish. We provided an environment not conducive to the fish’s needs. In short, they were not happy.
My mother was a hardier creature. In her sixties and again in her seventies, she survived two major depressions—one after her mother died, and another after her husband, my father, died. My father helped her the first time, taking over household chores while she got her strength back. The second time she was living alone but with friends nearby. And she had a doctor who cared. The second time she emerged with the help of a koi pool in her garden out back of her house.
It helps to have pets, even when they don’t bark or make cat sounds.
I don’t know where she got the idea to introduce koi to the pool that had been home just to greenery. But she did. Then she had to feed the koi daily. This got her out of the house early, with something to do. Her fish were depending on her.
My mother always put on an old red cap of my father’s to make the walk from the house to the pool. And she went at the same time of day. Whether it was the red cap or the time of day, when she reached the pool, the fish were all swimming on the surface, ready to accept the fish food that she provided.
All of this is a tiny gesture for a woman emerging from a bout with depression. But the koi, happy in an outdoor environment, and a pool of large dimensions, thrived. They grew large, as fish are known to do when in a large environment. The koi were happy. And my mother emerged happy as well, strong even without her helpmate, my father.
We all need the right environment to thrive. I believe that we thrive best when we depend totally on God as our sustenance and provider. A complete relinquishment of doing things “our” way, but a determination to do things God’s way. If we are in dire straits, we don’t die as did some of the fish I’ve described, but we submit once again, in surrender, to God.
The only way for us to be happy, permanently, is to live in close proximity—through prayer and guidance—to our Lord. When we do that, life smooths out, and laughter, lightness, and joy emerge once again.
Sure, water creatures in a natural environment, like the koi, can provide joy to our days, as they did to my mother. But it is God who sustained her, and perhaps it is God who gave her the idea of a koi pool in the first place.
Ask Him for solutions to our difficulties. When we open ourselves to His guidance, we get answers.
When we don’t know which way to turn, give God a chance. He provides. I am absolutely convinced of this. God will solve our problems, and we will be happy.
Celia Hales is a contributing writer for OFWB Community. Celia is a former religion librarian at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis, and now lives with her husband Paul in Oxford, Mississippi. She was previously employed at both Free Will Baptist Press (Cross & Crown) and Mount Olive College (now University of Mount Olive).
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