Fishing I used to dread the early morn, The knocks at my bedroom door. “Get up,” he’d say, “it’s time to go.” I’d reply, “Just a few minutes more.” “I’m leaving,” he would continue. “If you’re going, you better come on.” “Ok,” as I dragged myself out of bed. I knew he’d not go alone. We’re going fishing, my father and I, Just the two of us together; In the warmth of summer or chill of winter, No matter what the weather. We’re making another memory, Things I have always treasured. I’ll remember all the good times, Things that can never be measured. He taught me how to bait my hook, To tend to my own pole. And when I didn’t get a bite, He’d show me his favorite hole. If my line snagged on a log Or got caught up in a tree, To untangle it or work it loose Was always up to me. It took rhythm and balance To use a fly rod just right, To place it in the perfect spot And watch the fly take flight. To read every kind of trout stream Took wisdom and hard work. I’d study the nooks and eddies, The places where fish would lurk. I had a new pair of waders. I was as proud as could be. I waded into the ice-cold stream And tested my agility. I stepped out in the moving stream, But slipped on a mossy rock. Down I fell to the bottom, Soaking myself, what a shock! Dad bundled me up in a blanket And laid out my clothes to dry. Before long, I was ready to go And give it another try. Fishing doesn’t always mean catching; It means being patient and still. And when you finally get one, It gives you such a thrill. We sometimes kept the fish we caught, But most times let them go. We always tried for big ones, And took a picture to show. Yes, I used to dread the early morn, The knocks on my bedroom door. I never knew I’d miss them, But the memories I can store. Store up to tell my own child. Do you want to get up and fish? Memories are life itself And the secret to every wish.
This poem is based on our family fishing stories throughout the years. Yes, some have fallen in, all have been taught and encouraged, but most important is the family time we spent together. Fishing is a time for joy, quietness, and reflection, giving us good stories and memories. Memories that are stored up for times when we are older and not able to fish.
Jesus taught his disciples through fishing experiences. One of these teaching times is in John 21. Seven of Jesus’ disciples had gone fishing, but they were not having any luck. Jesus showed up with a miracle. He taught them how to trust and reap the benefits of catching fish in abundance.
