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Writer's pictureSarah Raad

Fisherman

I have been thinking about that interaction with that fisherman, because it reminds me of what my interactions should be with others…


Fishers of Men (Simon Dewey)

For some strange reason that I have never been able to work out, my children absolutely love to go fishing…

 

Their father does not like fishing and I certainly do not like it.  But once, when they were very young, their uncle (their father’s brother) who really loves fishing, invited them to fish with him.  And while we were there for an hour or so that morning, my second son caught a small fish (which he threw back into the river) and was won over to the pastime…

 

Both my husband and I find fishing a very boring and frustrating activity.  After all, you may sit for hours and hours and catching nothing at all and simply spend your time re-hooking the bait to the fish hook and casting your line back into the river over and over again.  Or you might hook a fish only to find that it escapes the hook before you can reel it in.  And the whole experience seems such a waste of time.

 

But – because our children enjoy the activity so much – we tend to go fishing quite often as a family.  My husband is quite good at setting the bait onto the hooks (especially for our daughter who cannot bring herself to do it) and is quite masterful at untangling the lines.  And I have become very good at reading a book quietly and cheering loudly and taking photographs when a fish actually does make it onto the line.  However, neither my husband nor I know very much about fishing.

 

The other day, our family were trying to do some fishing.  My husband set the bait on the lure of all three fishing lines and our children were dancing around excitedly waiting for the chance to go and cast them into the water.  And just as we were waiting for the march over to the pier, what had begun as a drizzle turning into a deluge and – despite waiting almost an hour for it to pass – we were forced to give up our plans to fish that day.

 

Just as we were packing away, an elderly man who had been packing up his fishing equipment near to where we were seated came over to us and asked if we were planning to come back and fish the next day.  We responded that we would.  And then he proceeded to provide us with a different sort of bait and some advice on the best spots and times to fish.  After passing on this information – with great joy – this man left us, wishing us good luck as he went.

 

And I have been thinking about that interaction with that fisherman, because it reminds me of what my interactions should be with others…

 

You see, my husband and I do our best with those fish, but we are rather ineffectual because we do not understand how the whole process actually works.  And in this way, my husband and I are like people who are trying to live a good life, but who do not understand very much about God… 

 

And the elderly fisherman who gave us the right bait to use and directed us on the place and time to fish – well, he is like the good Christian who finds joy in speaking of God Himself and all HIS ways…

 

And as I think about that fisherman today I cannot help but feel ashamed.  For I speak of so many things in my daily life – but my words about God are so limited.  And when you really stop and think about it – THOSE words are the only words worth speaking!

 

For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.

 

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