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Archive for October, 2010

The Object, Fish

I was thinking about my Dad the other day. He was born on September 15, 1927 and died on May, 23, 1998. On his tombstone, instead of a dash between the dates, there is a small fish. That little fish was put there because between those dates, he did a lot of fishing.
One place he liked to fish was Doctor’s Lake. A lake filled with bream, white perch and crappie. It was no easy task to get there, but to him the rewards were worth the effort.
He would get up around four, drink a cup or two of coffee from his favorite brown Melamine cup, its inside stained from many years of holding strong hot black coffee. When he finished, he simply rinsed it and set it on the counter. After all, he would be drinking from it when he got home. Nobody ever thought about drinking from that cup.
Sometimes he would reach in the refrigerator and remove a brown paper bag full of Catalpa worms he had gathered the day before.
The rest of his gear was already in his wooden 14’ Stauter built fishing boat along with canned cokes, Vienna sausage and crackers.
There was always a friend, or brother, or a son-in-law, or a grandchild with him.
They drove the 50 miles up Highway 43 to Bates Lake Marina, launched the boat and took off up the river as fast as that little 25 HP Evinrude motor could go.
They would then cut their speed and take a little stream into a dense area.
Daddy would have his eyes focused as they crept along.
When he spotted the little aluminum boat he had hid in the thick growth, he stopped and they loaded everything they brought into it.
He and his fishing buddy would then pick up the small loaded boat and carry it for a few yards until they came to another body of water, Doctor’s Lake.
They put the boat in and sculled around the lake. They fished the day away.
A friend once said the name of this momentous event was fishing. Nothing about the name mentioned catching.
However, when Daddy went fishing on Doctor’s Lake he never returned home empty handed.
As the day was ending, they would travel in reverse order until they reached home where they cleaned every fish and fried them in a cast iron pot filled with grease set on a homemade cooker.
The reward for a good day of fun.
Thinking about this, I looked at it through the eyes of some of our spiritual journeys. We take off fast on this journey with a load of stuff thinking we know exactly what we should do as Christians. Sometimes, after a time of Bible study, prayer, and listening we find ourselves on a path we thought we would not take and with only the gear necessary, “trust in God.”
The reward of the Christian journey, having fun with God.

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