Though it's not always worn on my sleeve, I have a deeper, spiritual side. It's personal and not paraded. I realize people have many different beliefs and often association with religion has its own stereotypes that don't necessarily line up with my own beliefs. All that being said, if you're checking out the blog and Christendom is really not your thing, I understand. This is a kayak fishing blog and that's why you read it (I think). Today I have a guest post at thedailycake.org that is designed around the Advent season. I wanted to also post it here to share just a little bit of me. I'm usually pretty veiled with topics like this but it's important to say publicly how you feel now and again. Hopefully you'll see it as a look behind the curtain. We'll be back to regularly scheduled topics later this week.
One day. One day I will catch that elusive fish.
For the better part of my life I have been a fisherman. For
the last ten years it has been mostly from a kayak. Day in and day out,
paddling, hauling gear, making casts and waiting has been my routine. Reel in,
cast out and wait some more. Repeat the process several hundred times and the
day is complete. Chasing a record setting fish seems like a lot of work for
something that few believe will ever happen, especially from a kayak. It has a
lot to do with my mode of transportation.
I’m not the pedigreed guy in the fast glitter boat. I’m the
guy sitting on a piece of plastic, paddling through God’s country in search of
something I’ve longed for. Day after day. The same thing. And it hasn’t
happened yet. But it will. One day.
I don’t think it is coincidence that I often find God in the
wilderness I trek. From the beautiful scenes of earth rushing to meet clear
flowing streams to the Great Blue Herron stalking its dinner in the marsh, I
see Him. The beauty of it all reminds me of Him. Every whisper through the wind
calls out “I am here.” Every song from a bird, breeze from a wind and shade
from a giant oak reminds me.
God has a special place in His heart for fishermen. Who surrounded His Son during the deadliest
three years of His life? Fishermen. They know the lulls. They practice patience
on a daily basis though some are more excitable than others. (Admittedly I lean
more toward a Peter temperament). Fishing soothes my soul. It connects me with
God on a level that is hard to explain.
I paddle ever so slightly to take it all in.
Slowly soaking in the masterpiece of creation, I patiently
wait for one.
The patience I must evoke while searching for the one record
fish reminds me of James, telling Christ’s followers to be patient like the
farmer waiting on the rains. It’s also akin to the thousands of years awaiting
the first coming of the Savior that Isaiah told of. The excitement, the doubt,
the second guessing and then faith triumphing in that manger truly must have
made all that waiting and searching seem like seconds rather than centuries.
Christ was truly only with those who sought Him for three
short years. All of that waiting to realize Him for a brief moment in time. A
moment that made all the difference and is why we once again wait.
And as I continue to fish, awaiting the record, we
Christians also wait. We are patient.
I paddle on and you continue with your journey but we know.
We all know.
He is coming!