Fisher of Men

What do I do for a living?

I could give you some long-winded description of the associate's degree I will be receiving in a semester's time.  I could tell you about the endless job possibilities I could get with that associate's degree.  I could tell you about all the heartbreak that will probably go into those jobs, all the company politics and drama, all the policies, procedures, and endless hours typing up to-a-T manuals that no one will ever read.  For what?  That's not me.  That's what the world wants me to be.  I have different aspirations.

Put it simply: I am a fisher of men.  Of all people, really.  

Now mind you, I did not pick this profession for myself.  At least, it wasn't something I initially threw myself into with great pleasure.  It sort of jumped out at me from the pages of John some Sunday (many, many Sundays ago...) morning in (where else?) Sunday school.

Did I even know it was my life's calling?  In a strange, inexplicable way, yes.  I did know it was my life's calling.  Did I plan it?  No.  Was I expecting it?  No.  Was I excited that it was my calling?  No.  But I knew, irrevocably, that it was.

So what kind of education does it take to be a fisher of men?  What education did the disciples have?  What education did Jesus Himself have?  They were fishermen, carpenters, tax collectors.  They were not laureates.  They were not rocket scientists.  They weren't Harvard graduates (or even graduates of lesser institutions of higher learning).

But they were convicted.  Convicted to be followers, convicted to be teachers, sharers, proclaimers.  But mostly, to love their God.

What do I do for a living?

I am a fisher of men.

Why?

Because I'm convicted, and because I love God.  No college education can give me that.