Recently I was told by a friend that I should get over my fear of sharks. I have to clarify that I am not afraid of all sharks, as there are many and some don't get to be very dangerous (unless you are dumb and mess with them). However, whenever there is an image of that infamous creature that made Steven Spielburg one of the top directors and producers of our time, I about feel like my chest closes in and I cannot even feel my spinal chord because it has turned to mush.
The Great White shark gives me the awful feeling that you might get when you see a giant spider, a slithering snake, a centipede the size of your shoe, a flying roach coming toward you, or for those of you that think those are children's toys, a bright, loud, hysterical clown.
Get the picture?
So when my good, good friend tries to tell me to get over my irrational fear of a creature that I have only seen in movies and TV, I begin to ask myself how in the WORLD will I get over that. It's not like I have an oversized cage to jump into and wade in the deep, frigid waters of the Australian coast and hold a piece of cow to lure in this teeth factory of a fish.
And it's not like if I did I would do it, bee-tee-dubble-u.
So then I remember that incredible story of a man swallowed by a giant fish.
A man running away from crystal clear instructions from a Being that has blessed him and will bless others through him. The man goes as far as walking in the opposite direction, getting on a boat that eventually begins to fall apart because of the severe storm the Being has inflicted the waters with. All because of the man's disobedience and reluctance.
The man allows himself to get dumped overboard because he knows what he has done. The sailors with him tremble at the idea of a Being that can stir the seas to deathly proportions and calm them just as quickly. Just as quickly as the man hits the waters.
And here floats in mammoth fish.
And the man gets swallowed whole. Whole.
Not bit up, or thrashed back and forth, or nibbled on, or chased. Swallowed entirely.
And he survives.
And he praises the Being. Inside the belly of fish-beast.
And he gets vomited back out.
And the Being repeats those same instructions he gave the man, still pretty crystal clear.
And a people, a nation, a country for crying out loud, repented of all the filth they did to themselves and to the Merciful Being.
Now I ask myself again, how in the WORLD will I get over this irrational fear? A fear that is not only of great whites, but of great lies, of great doubts, of great loneliness, of great shame, and of great sadness?
Looking that great fish in the eye and getting comfy.
"Cause girl, you are in it."
Start praising.
(Picture above is of a Whale Shark, not a Great White. Thank God He created a creature that meshes both of my stories together!)
