“We should name him Nemo,” I teased as we lowered our tiny goldfish into the backyard pond. But then, there were those two cute dots at the base of his tail and two bigger dots on his tail fins.
“How about Duce?” my husband suggested.
“Perhaps Dos?” I countered.
And so, it was decided; his name would be Ducy-Dos. We were happy and so was our goldfish, but that changed the day of the accident. While we were cleaning the pond, Ducy-Dos tumbled into the pump housing.
For weeks, I kept the pump lid off, waiting to catch a glimpse of Ducy-Dos. I placed a net pondside, so I’d be able to take decisive action. I tempted our goldfish to surface by enticing him with tasty snacks. After three months of frequenting the pump housing, hoping to save our fish, I positioned the pump lid back into place.
“Honey, don”t give up so fast.” my husband encouraged.
“He’s not coming out of there,” I said. Unable to retrieve Ducy-Dos, I had concluded our prized fish was dead.
“But we prayed…”
My husband’s words echoed within me like a soft hammer. Sure. We had prayed three months ago, when the accident first happened. So why hadn’t I sighted our beloved fish on the first day we had prayed? I was convinced our prayer was too trivial for God’s ears. Besides, why should He retrieve my fish when I should have been more careful positioning the pump lid?
But then, there was the lightning storm and subsequent power failure. When the pumps switched off, I raced to the edge of the pond to make sure they would start correctly when electricity was restored. Sitting in the rain, listening to the thunder, I thought again about Ducy-Dos. If only he’d come back. That’s impossible. No sense in bothering God about that one.
“But we prayed…” My husband’s words echoed in my heart once again, along with the scripture that nothing—absolutely nothing—is impossible for a holy God.
Nothing shall be impossible to you.
I Peter 2:9 echoes the same sentiment, for because I am the Lord’s, I am “a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people,” and I should be able to “shew forth the praises of him who hath called… [me] …out of darkness into his marvellous light.”
Ducy-Dos, if alive, was very much in the dark. But, wasn’t I as well? I really wasn’t putting faith in the words I’d spoken to God. I needed to believe He could raise Ducy-Dos out of that pump housing. I asked God to help me. I wanted to tap into the realm of God and be different—yes, peculiar—because of my belief that God could do all things. I surrendered my little fish to the Lord, and trusted Him to give or take Ducy-Dos at His will. I was at peace, even while the rain pelted me, drenching my clothing through to my skin.
To my utter amazement, when the power came on and the pumps re-started, a big gulp of water, air, and algae came spouting into the air, and with it our beloved fish! Ducy-Dos landed splat into my open hands, which by reflex I grasped onto tightly.
“Ducy-Dos!” I cried, examining him as if he was a newborn babe. His color was faded, but other than that, he was unharmed.
We renamed our goldfish Nemo and thanked God for this unusual answer to prayer.
Thank You, God, that with You, all things are possible through prayer.
Where’s Nemo? is a true story.
Copyright © 2019: All Rights Reserved: Where’s Nemo?: VineWords: Author Diane Virginia Cunio; Pen Name, Diane Virginia: http://www.vinewords.net/wheres-nemo/devotion