by Marti Fischer
You may have noticed something today.
There was no Catch.
There is a reason.
The newspaper boy fell down.
Literally.
John took a fall and broke his shoulder. And today the pain made writing a Catch pretty much impossible.
Now, if Ben were here, we’d have a pretty good idea what he would say about that.
He would probably look at John, look at the newspapers, look down the street at all the houses waiting for them and ask the obvious question: “So who’s going to deliver the news?”
That would be Ben.
No pity party.
No lengthy discussion about the unfortunate condition of the newspaper boy.
There is a route.
There are papers.
There are people waiting for the news.
Somebody had better get moving.
Which, come to think of it, is a pretty good lesson for all of us.
For fifteen years, John has written the Daily Catch. Day after day, he has gotten up, wrestled with an idea, a Scripture, a question, an injustice, a doubt, a surprise or some unexpected appearance of grace—and sent it out.
But the Catch was never supposed to be about one man writing something every day. It was always about getting the news out. And today the man who usually carries the papers couldn’t carry them.
But the ministry didn’t stop.
The mission didn’t change.
The route didn’t disappear.
And the news certainly didn’t become any less important.
Perhaps there is something wonderfully appropriate about discovering this on Day Two of a campaign called Gotta Get the News Out.
Because sooner or later, every newspaper boy falls down.
Every leader discovers a limitation.
Every one of us reaches a moment when we cannot do what we have always done.
And then comes the important question: Was the mission ours—or were we merely carrying it for a while?
The Gospel has survived for more than two thousand years because somebody always picked up the papers.
One generation handed them to another.
One person told another person.
Someone crossed a street.
Someone crossed an ocean.
Someone opened a home.
Someone wrote a letter.
Someone sat beside a lonely person.
Someone said, “You need to hear this.”
Grace kept getting turned outward.
So there was no Catch in your inbox today.
But maybe there was a Catch after all.
Maybe today’s Catch is simply this:
The newspaper boy fell down.
And tomorrow?
We pick up the papers.
There are still people waiting.
Gotta get the news out. No matter what.
