Teach Me to Fish Again

If you ever want to hear God's voice, go to the river. Seriously, I have found that nature can teach us so much about our God.
I have lived in the same area my entire life. My parents built a house in front of the woods; there is a creek back there. I live literally five minutes (or less) from Red River. One would think many of my childhood memories stem from a place such as this one. However, one would soon find that to be very untrue. I have few memories of the river. I remember camping once, wading a couple of times, and, vividly, two baptisms (though I know I attended more).
My Dad always tells us that he spent more time on the river as a child than he did in his own home. He would fish for hours on end. Even after he and my mom were married my dad would go fishing with my grandad, or on his own. However, in the past... lets say 10 years, my dad has found little to no time to go fishing. In fact, he hasn't at all.
He has reasons. He works every single day in a factory and when he comes home he is very tired, but still hauls around us girls wherever we go. On Wednesday nights we go to church, Tuesdays and Thursdays my sister Christina has band practice, Monday nights he gives guitar lessons. Our weekends are always booked. When he doesn't have something planned, he sleeps. I don't blame him!
But something changed this year. My dad pretty much woke up one morning and told my mom, "Gwen, I'm gonna start fishing again." It was like he woke up from his slump. My dad got out his old tackle box, strung the fishing poles, and went and bought his fishing license. He has been fishing at least three times a week since that morning... and its been a few weeks. Tonight, my dad took me fishing.
When I was little and we went camping (my one memory of it) my dad would fish. Every now and then he would ask me to come hold the line while he got "a drink of water" or had to "wash his hands." Every time he asked me to hold the line, I caught a fish. Back then, I thought it was me. Now, looking back, I know he did it on purpose.
When my dad took me to the river tonight, I held the fishing pole, and though the fish really weren't hungry, I finally caught a fish. One of my very own. Want to know how many my dad caught? None.
Nothing against my dad, he can cast a line ten times better than I can and he knows exactly where the fish are hiding. However, I kind of found that sometimes it doesn't matter how talented of a fisherman (or woman) one is, or how long one has been fishing really. Sometimes, it all comes down to chance. To the right moment, the right opportunity, the right time.
And, I think about how we are called to be "Fishers of men." Standing there in the river tonight, I saw some things that stirred up the Spirit within me. I could probably write a whole series of blog entries on them, but I want to share them with you in a more abbreviated format.

1. The further out into the river one walks, the harder it is to see, and the more one has to walk by faith.
2. One can make the perfect cast and catch nothing and one can make the most unprofessional cast and catch something. (You don't have to be a professional to win people to Christ).
3. The deepest, darkest, farthest places are where all the fish are. Do not be afraid to go where the Lord has called you.
4. When one cannot see the bottom, stand firmly and cast. When you stand firm, both feet planted, you cannot fall.
5. There will be rocks, snakes, and other things to trip you up. Keep on walking
6. My dad taught me how to fish. Be a good example.
   
7. The fish we catch will not always be the ones we want to catch. We can't catch the ten-pound bass every time. Nonetheless, a fish is a fish.
8. When you can't see the bottom, step out on faith. You have no other choice.
9. You will meet interesting people along the way (literally).
10. It is always easier to keep swimming forward, than to turn around and go back.