Before me stood a vast and wide river named Lost Souls. I had hoped to see the banks filled with fishermen. You see, I knew the fishing to be excellent, but many of my fellow fishermen remained cloistered in Contentment Café or taking sips at Living Water Way.
It had been three days since I had been invited by some of my friends to the Forest of Despair where they brandished heavy weaponry searching for the Sprits of Dismay. They had placed their fishing gear aside and took up arms.
Blasts of gunpowder could be heard throughout the Forest of Despair as many a good man chased apparitions and shadows.
“Men of Sojourn,” I called loudly. “Have we forgotten the desire of the King of Hearts?”
The men stared at me silently as they wondered why I had insisted they stop their efforts to capture the Spirits of Dismay.
“We were told in a time long past remembering that we were to be fishermen, not hunters,” I paused to let the words find their mark. A few men lowered their guns as remembrance began to dawn afresh.
“We have paid so much for the tools of our pursuit,” Disgruntled Daniel called as he brandished his exceptional firearm.
“Yet, the King would have us at the river bank now long neglected and overgrown,” I returned his reply. “Friends, we have looked at our commission as if we are hunters and not fishermen. We must return to the former ways.
“When we fish, the Lost Souls are allowed to choose whether they wish to accept what we offer or refuse it, however when we hunt they are not given no choice.”
“I enjoy hunting,” Andy Aggression called from near the oldest oak in the forest.
“I’m certain you do, but when you hunt you take aim and are finished, with fishing you remain on the banks for a time allowing the fish every opportunity to determine their level of desire. Can’t you see, friends, there is a difference. We are not asked to be the antagonists in pursuing those in rebellion to the King.”
The men of Wayland began to listen more vigilantly and some lay down their firearms in contrition.
“Truthfully, there are some who are not very gifted at rifle management. The King knew this to be true which is why He asked us only to release a line in the River of Lost Souls.” I had made my appeal and began my solitary walk back to the tangled banks of the river.
One by one many of the hunters of yore abandoned their weapons of war and returned to the Kinds edict, “He saith unto them, Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”
It was good to see the banks of the River of Lost Souls alive with men fishers once more. The fishing was marvelous – and it was good.
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