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The crippling nature of bitterness and the liberty in forgiving.
The mackerel carries some injuries and is angry and bitter. But these injuries never heal because blood sucking lampreys are attracted to the wounds. He is hooked by a fisherman who shows him how to be free of the blood suckers by forgiving those who have wounded him. Once back in the water the mackerel soon gets to try out this new approach to life. However, the mackerel has more to learn and finds that the hooks he fears are actually used by the fisherman to draw mackerel to himself. Finally the mackerel learns how to forgive both the fisherman and himself.
This story represents an important discovery about forgiveness, one that I'd missed for years and had carried unnecessary anger for years as a result: It's not about letting the other person off the hook, but about my freedom from the injury or offence. Forgiveness brings healing to the one who forgives. It's not the same as reconciliation, but it is a prerequisite. It's God's method for dealing with conflict and injury. It's why Jesus taught it. Martin
- The Mackerel in pdf format (on request only) -see a full length video presentation of 'The Mackerel' runtime 20 minutes 14 seconds
Word count : 2,941 Est. read aloud time : 20 mins 30
I'm Martin Day. Please contact me about anything on this site. I will reply personally.
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'The Mackerel' by Martin Day The Mackerel swam fast with his companions. Where they went, he went; when they turned, he turned: who was in control was never really clear - they just all moved together. The Mackerel was a strong fish, a handsome fish, but he did have a short temper. One day he found himself on the outside of the shoal as it turned too close to the rocks. He found himself being buffeted against some rough barnacles. He felt a sharp pain. Immediately his temper flared. Silent bubbles screamed from his mouth. He was so, so angry; with the barnacles, with the shoal, with himself, with everything. Because there were so many fish and because they all looked the same, no one really noticed that he was in fact… beside himself. "It always happens to me," he grumbled to himself, still fuming like a kipper. The blood streamed from his side leaving a cloudy red trail in the water behind him. And it was while he was still angry that the smell of his bleeding reached the snub nose of a resting Lamprey. The Lamprey was lying cold and still amongst the rocks like a length of grey tubing. So pale was he that it looked like there was no life in him. And truly there was no life of his own. His sharp mouth-parts flexed in the warm scent from the Mackerel’s wound. Now a Lamprey is a bit like an eel and a bit like a leech. Smoothly and steadily he glided and snaked through the water after the Mackerel. By the time that the Lamprey caught up, the Mackerel was starting to contain his anger, grumbling quietly to himself. The Lamprey nuzzled along side the Mackerel in a comforting way and slid his mouth parts into the site of the graze. The Mackerel felt a bitter tug on his wound and his muscular body tensed again. And with that spasm the sharp barbs on the Lamprey's jaws dug firmly into the Mackerel’s flesh. Immediately the bleeding stopped, or rather, the water cleared. The Lamprey's head glowed faintly red as he sucked silently on the Mackerel’s life blood. The Mackerel swam on with the shoal, unaware of this uninvited companion. With an eye on each side of his head, a Mackerel can see everything but himself. Now the Mackerel is indeed one of the most handsome fish of the cold seas. The patterns on his back sparkle and ripple like the very waves themselves. But this Mackerel was not as handsome as he should be. For not only did he have Lampreys streaming from his skin but he also had two hooks hanging from his mouth. These were from times when he had snapped at something sparkling in the water. On both occasions these had not been food, but bright and shining objects of desire. Objects that he knew wouldn't satisfy, but that he greedily desired to consume. He had snatched at these without pausing to think, because a pause would have meant loosing out to another in the shoal. The hooks constantly burned in his lip and Lampreys lived on these wounds too. He had learned to live with the pain of the hooks but the traces of line that were still attached often caught in the seaweed and jarred his mouth further. With all these wounds the Mackerel had gradually lost the joy of living. He resented the rest of the shoal; he distrusted the rocks; he feared the Fisherman ... to be continued! The rest of this story is avialable on Kindle, both individually and part of The Animal Parables collection (paperback to follow later). Use the links (left) to buy from Amazon. Press the Contact button (right) to be sure to get updates. © M Day 18-Sep-2007
The Mackerel swam fast with his companions. Where they went, he went; when they turned, he turned: who was in control was never really clear - they just all moved together. The Mackerel was a strong fish, a handsome fish, but he did have a short temper. One day he found himself on the outside of the shoal as it turned too close to the rocks. He found himself being buffeted against some rough barnacles. He felt a sharp pain. Immediately his temper flared. Silent bubbles screamed from his mouth. He was so, so angry; with the barnacles, with the shoal, with himself, with everything. Because there were so many fish and because they all looked the same, no one really noticed that he was in fact… beside himself. "It always happens to me," he grumbled to himself, still fuming like a kipper. The blood streamed from his side leaving a cloudy red trail in the water behind him. And it was while he was still angry that the smell of his bleeding reached the snub nose of a resting Lamprey. The Lamprey was lying cold and still amongst the rocks like a length of grey tubing. So pale was he that it looked like there was no life in him. And truly there was no life of his own. His sharp mouth-parts flexed in the warm scent from the Mackerel’s wound. Now a Lamprey is a bit like an eel and a bit like a leech. Smoothly and steadily he glided and snaked through the water after the Mackerel. By the time that the Lamprey caught up, the Mackerel was starting to contain his anger, grumbling quietly to himself. The Lamprey nuzzled along side the Mackerel in a comforting way and slid his mouth parts into the site of the graze. The Mackerel felt a bitter tug on his wound and his muscular body tensed again. And with that spasm the sharp barbs on the Lamprey's jaws dug firmly into the Mackerel’s flesh. Immediately the bleeding stopped, or rather, the water cleared. The Lamprey's head glowed faintly red as he sucked silently on the Mackerel’s life blood. The Mackerel swam on with the shoal, unaware of this uninvited companion. With an eye on each side of his head, a Mackerel can see everything but himself. Now the Mackerel is indeed one of the most handsome fish of the cold seas. The patterns on his back sparkle and ripple like the very waves themselves. But this Mackerel was not as handsome as he should be. For not only did he have Lampreys streaming from his skin but he also had two hooks hanging from his mouth. These were from times when he had snapped at something sparkling in the water. On both occasions these had not been food, but bright and shining objects of desire. Objects that he knew wouldn't satisfy, but that he greedily desired to consume. He had snatched at these without pausing to think, because a pause would have meant loosing out to another in the shoal. The hooks constantly burned in his lip and Lampreys lived on these wounds too. He had learned to live with the pain of the hooks but the traces of line that were still attached often caught in the seaweed and jarred his mouth further. With all these wounds the Mackerel had gradually lost the joy of living. He resented the rest of the shoal; he distrusted the rocks; he feared the Fisherman ... to be continued! The rest of this story is avialable on Kindle, both individually and part of The Animal Parables collection (paperback to follow later). Use the links (left) to buy from Amazon. Press the Contact button (right) to be sure to get updates.
The Mackerel swam fast with his companions. Where they went, he went; when they turned, he turned: who was in control was never really clear - they just all moved together. The Mackerel was a strong fish, a handsome fish, but he did have a short temper.
One day he found himself on the outside of the shoal as it turned too close to the rocks. He found himself being buffeted against some rough barnacles. He felt a sharp pain. Immediately his temper flared. Silent bubbles screamed from his mouth. He was so, so angry; with the barnacles, with the shoal, with himself, with everything. Because there were so many fish and because they all looked the same, no one really noticed that he was in fact… beside himself. "It always happens to me," he grumbled to himself, still fuming like a kipper. The blood streamed from his side leaving a cloudy red trail in the water behind him. And it was while he was still angry that the smell of his bleeding reached the snub nose of a resting Lamprey. The Lamprey was lying cold and still amongst the rocks like a length of grey tubing. So pale was he that it looked like there was no life in him. And truly there was no life of his own. His sharp mouth-parts flexed in the warm scent from the Mackerel’s wound.
Now a Lamprey is a bit like an eel and a bit like a leech. Smoothly and steadily he glided and snaked through the water after the Mackerel. By the time that the Lamprey caught up, the Mackerel was starting to contain his anger, grumbling quietly to himself. The Lamprey nuzzled along side the Mackerel in a comforting way and slid his mouth parts into the site of the graze. The Mackerel felt a bitter tug on his wound and his muscular body tensed again. And with that spasm the sharp barbs on the Lamprey's jaws dug firmly into the Mackerel’s flesh. Immediately the bleeding stopped, or rather, the water cleared. The Lamprey's head glowed faintly red as he sucked silently on the Mackerel’s life blood. The Mackerel swam on with the shoal, unaware of this uninvited companion. With an eye on each side of his head, a Mackerel can see everything but himself.
Now the Mackerel is indeed one of the most handsome fish of the cold seas. The patterns on his back sparkle and ripple like the very waves themselves. But this Mackerel was not as handsome as he should be. For not only did he have Lampreys streaming from his skin but he also had two hooks hanging from his mouth. These were from times when he had snapped at something sparkling in the water. On both occasions these had not been food, but bright and shining objects of desire. Objects that he knew wouldn't satisfy, but that he greedily desired to consume. He had snatched at these without pausing to think, because a pause would have meant loosing out to another in the shoal. The hooks constantly burned in his lip and Lampreys lived on these wounds too. He had learned to live with the pain of the hooks but the traces of line that were still attached often caught in the seaweed and jarred his mouth further. With all these wounds the Mackerel had gradually lost the joy of living. He resented the rest of the shoal; he distrusted the rocks; he feared the Fisherman
... to be continued!
The rest of this story is avialable on Kindle, both individually and part of The Animal Parables collection (paperback to follow later). Use the links (left) to buy from Amazon. Press the Contact button (right) to be sure to get updates.
© M Day 18-Sep-2007
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