At a restaurant in this area, the wait staff throws pieces of bread to the fish gathered beneath the deck. When the fish cluster to feed, a green heron appears and collects fish for his lunch. Clutching onto a suspended rope, he hangs over the water, selecting the fish he wants. So adept is he at landing the fish that he has been seen to troll with a slice of bread, dragging it through the water until a fish strikes. Then he lunges and the fish vanishes. Obviously this green heron has learned the advantage of trolling, luring the fish into his catch with something they want. Sad to say, I am like those silly fish. Too often I am taken in by the lures of this world—popularity, wealth, convenience, easy judgment, and failure to love. I don’t look beyond the lures to see who is trolling or what hooks are set. I bite too easily and then regret what I’ve done or said or sacrificed. Thank you, Lord, for your grace that accepts me back regardless of how many lures I succumb to, no matter how often I surrender to temptation. Please make me strong; clarify my vision so I see you and not the tempting lures of this world. Amen.
As we walked on the beach this morning, my husband spotted a lure caught in seaweed. He picked it up, carefully removed the debris from the multiple hooks, and decided
I pick up a handful of white sand on the beach, and let its grains drift through my fingers. This coarse sand, with its impurities removed, is the source of
I love to watch shorebirds dance in pools of water left high on the beach. They shuffle their feet, riling the water, hoping to disturb some bit of food. When