Casting

I'm not a big fisherman. I've never really cared to give it a serious go. I think it's because I lack the patience to just sit there and wait for something to happen, which is really quite ironic as I never mind hanging out at the beach just sitting, watching the waves for hours on end. My grandparents loved it... couldn't get enough of it. They'd go down to Corpus periodically to do just that. They'd wake up before dawn, fish until it got warm, then head back to their room to rest during midday. They would come back out again in the late afternoon/evening when the fishing got good again. Every time they came back home, they had a big ol' haul with them. I can still remember seeing pictures of the two of them proudly displaying their catch hanging from a line strung across their carport.

One year, around the time I was fifteen or so, I asked if I could tag along with them. I didn't want to go for the fishing, of course, I thought it'd be fun to just lie on the pier and get a suntan. Well, Nana, my grandmother, wanted me to simply give it a try. She baited the hook for me, cast the line out into the ocean, and handed me the pole. It couldn't have gotten any simpler than that. Though I had done NOTHING myself to this point, I was feeling pretty cocky... and trying my best to look cool at the same time. " Hah! Look at me. I'm fishing! This isn't so bad after all," I thought to myself. That is, until I felt something on my line. The cool thing flew out the window when I started screaming like a baby for my grandmother to rescue me. There on the end of my line was a big, old, blue crab... and he was pulling himself up by the line as skillfully as a gymnast climbs a rope. I didn't wait for Nana to get to me. I dropped that pole like it was on fire, and ran! Fortunately, my grandmother was able to retrieve the pole, sans crab, which she very casually kicked back into the water. That was the first and last time she ever implored me to give fishing a chance.

Fast forward twenty years. Tom and I were taking the kids to the river. They each had their little fishing poles and buckets. When you're a mom, you have to put on the "cool" face again like, " no big deal," and be brave in baiting the hooks for your kiddos, though inside you're screamiing with every fiber of your being... gross, Gross, GROSS!!! They were so proud to catch their tiny, little fishlings. They never wanted to keep them. They just had fun going through the exercise. A couple of them took some time to get used to casting. To me, this step always seemed counter-intuitive. You've got to press down on the release button to hold the line until you're ready to send it sailing. Once you throw the line out there, you've got to simultaneously let go of the release in order to have your line unfurl and successfully cast. If you never let go of the button, the line won't sail, and the weight will just drop right back at your feet.

I've been thinking a lot about casting lately, and, no, I'm not planning a fishing trip any time soon, in case you were wondering. I've been thinking a great deal about Psalm 55:22, "Cast your burden on the Lord, and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous to be moved." It seems like every time I turn around, there is something else on the radar to be concerned about. The state of our country, the state of our government, the state of our health, the state of our schools, the state of our jobs... etc., etc., etc., are all grave concerns right now. Much is out of our conrtol. So many things weigh heavily on our hearts, and yet there seems so little we can actually do to remedy these issues on our own. That's why I thought about those little poles sitting in our backyard shed.

The last time our family was all together was Christmas. The weather was wonderful. It afforded us the opportunity to get outside in the yard and play. Tom went out to the shed and retrieved the trusty "Tweety" and "Little Mermaid" fishing poles to let Ben and Flint have a go at casting washers toward the garage. Casting is hard. It takes practice, but as with anything... even if practice doesn't make perfect, it certainly makes "better." Before long, they were getting the hang of it... mostly, and we would hear the washers "ping" against the siding.

It's easy to get discouraged when we can't get the line to cast. It's frustrating to see the weight dangling once again at our feet. The key is in letting go. It does absolutely no good to throw a weighted line out there while still hanging on to it. Though I'm not a fisherman, I suppose I've been practicing casting for most of my life.... casting burdens. Sometimes I get it right, and there is an exhilaration... a relief... in seeing that weight hurtling through the air far away from me. Sometimes I get it wrong, and the weight drops back at my feet. My Heavenly Father is patient with me, ever patient. He sees the frustration and the discouragement written across my face. He knows my heart is heavy with burdens I need not hold and carry. So, like a good parent, He comes to me with a calming whisper in His voice and a reassuring twinkle in His eye, and encourages me to cast again, and this time, to trust... and let go.