September's Silly Sucker

 

Corinthians 4:7-8

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not us. We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in desperation.

 

A fine September day found me immersed in river water to my knees, anxious to fish after the inconsistent generation patterns of the summer months. Perfect weather, floating leaves and a sense of peace flooded my brain as I made my first cast with a Partridge and Orange. With no success, I changed to a Little Randy and felt a small bump but missed it. I flung it back into the spot and waited a bit longer before setting the hook. The fish jumped and I could tell it was small. However, after waiting months to fish, even a dink sounded good to me. As I reeled it in, a rasping noise assaulted my ears. Eager to capture the fish, I should have looked at my rod butt. But in a few short seconds, it was too late as my reel unseated and flopped into the water. Could my rookie days have come back to haunt me? I made a grab for the reel trying at the same time to keep tension on the part of the line that held the fish. My problems only multiplied as the reel sank further and I finally managed to grab it after submerging my arm to the elbow. I couldn’t believe it but could still feel a flopping fish on the now restored line. When I finally managed to get it in, I found a small sucker on the other end. No wonder I didn’t lose this ugly creature. Those thick lips were there to stay.

Much chagrined at this point, I removed the Little Randy and switched to a purple wooly. No success there either, so my new choice was a White River special. An over-zealous guide sped by almost swamping me with his wake. The next people were more courteous. The two fly fishers recommended an olive wooly. I observed their success as they caught fish after fish and I quickly tied one on. Within a few minutes I hooked a stout Rainbow with a robust fight equal to my racing heart. Its vibrant colors graced my day with a beauty to fill any canvas and the 16” length gave me a sense of purpose. The friendly fly fishers were spot-on and another take brought a tussle similar to the first. About the same size and color, he challenged my skills and soon flopped in my net for a quick look and release. The third fish was much smaller but no less appreciated. Since my success rate had been poor during the summer, I was thrilled and several more missed fish kept my enthusiasm going. Somehow, I’d experienced a one-two-three sucker punch in reverse. Could the old thick-lipped piscatorial character have brought me luck?

God often touches our lives in ways we don’t understand. A troubling experience points the way to renewal. A difficult time sends us a friend who needs our wisdom. He is in control though the path we’re traveling seems unbearable at that moment. I often want my difficulties to be removed rather than to learn the insight of the lesson. God is waiting to teach me the difference.

Before the day’s end, my friend Scott Branyan (a.k.a. The Fly Flinger) rowed his drift boat by with 2 fishers and we exchanged hellos across the river. Life could be no better than this: an enchanting day on the water, an incident to give me patience, several strong fish to stretch my line and greeting an old friend. Blessed beyond measure, I finished the day, took one more look around and made my way back home.

Birthday Bamboozle

Psalm 116: 6

The Lord preserveth the simple: I was brought low, and he helped me.

An April Sunday after church I waited till late afternoon for my birthday wish--to fish along the edge of our campground. High water conditions hadn’t allowed me to wade in months. Although I was out of practice, everything went smoothly until I stepped into the water.

The landscape had drastically changed after the December floods had deepened the holes beyond the boat ramp. Where I had previously waded through gravel beds to a shallow place, I now encountered sticky sand and drop-offs. I backed up and began to cast, forgetting about the tree limbs over my head, After 2 casts I snagged one. Climbing up a muddy bank to reach the tree. I was lucky enough to bend the branch down and retrieve my fly.

Thinking I was good to go, I stepped back into the water. Failing to check that my fly was secured to the rod, I soon discovered it lodged on the back side of my boot. This fly was a new creation given me to try. I intended to accomplish that mission. However, the hook was so deeply embedded that when I attempted to pull it out with my forceps, it broke off.

On my way to full-fledged exasperation, I tied on another one of the same type and within a few moments managed to snag a different tree behind me. This time it was too high to reach and I snapped the second fly along with the tippet. 

About this time my husband rode up on the four wheeler to innocently ask how I was doing. I went into full-blown whine and recounted my poor techniques. He offered to tie on more tippet and I gratefully accepted.

Finally after thanking him and breathing deep, I set off to try again. He wisely left and I found a new path through the water near a giant tree root left gnarled by the flooding. With one cast my 3^rd fly of the set managed to discreetly land in the water unencumbered by any more obstacles. Lo and behold, I felt a strong take and a few seconds later captured a small female brown. Even though she garnered no prizes, she fought with a courageous heart and I thankfully accepted my birthday gift.

I wondered briefly how Job endured all the tests God put before him. Surely my difficulties this day couldn’t compare with his tribulations and yet he managed to keep his faith. My hope was to measure up in tiny increments and the challenge was to meet the travail with gratitude.

No other fish graced my net that day; but neither did I bury my boots in sucking sand or embarrass myself further. Memories of my rookie days beckoned but I resisted.

Maybe this birthday was special after all. I’d learned some patience, caught a fish and arrived back at my starting point without tumbling into the water.

Light the candles and bring on the cake. I’m done!