When I was a child my Dad used to take us fishing. He did all the work of packing the fishing gear, digging for worms or buying the bait. He would bait my hook and throw the line out into the water as I sat holding the fishing rod, watching the bobber intently.
Being a child, I could quickly become bored with watching the bobber bobbing in the water minute after minute after minute. I soon was not just watching the bobber but the way the sun danced off the lake. It was like diamonds flickering at times. Then I would wonder, did my bobber go under? Jerking the line, I then reeled it back in to check for a fish. Usually there was no fish and sometimes my bait was gone because I had been distracted. So my Dad would bait the hook again and remind me to keep my eye on the bobber.
Most of the time my Dad was patient with us as we tried to throw our own line in the water and as our hook caught on the trees, losing hook and bait. At other times he had to remind us to be quiet because we would scare the fish off. They could hear us and my giggling was more than they could stand. There was more to fishing than meets the eye.
I can remember trying to will a fish to snatch my bait so I could catch him. I prayed for a fish to take my bait. Fishing could be downright boring. But when I finally reeled a fish in, that was exciting! I squealed with delight. My Dad would come and take it off the hook and put it in the pail to be cleaned later and fried into a delicious meal. That made all the waiting worthwhile.
I learned a lot about being a fisher of men while fishing. “Gone fishing” means you have to go where the fish are. You need bait; the right kind of bait – a life transformed by the Word and presence of God. You have to be intentional and patient. You can’t make a fish bite the bait; it’s their decision. Fishing takes time and you can’t just give up. God does most of the work just like my Dad did. Even when you don’t catch anything you come back and try again another day.
Fishing anyone?
No comments:
Post a Comment