Letting Go and Finding Joy

Growing up on a lake means fishing is part of some of my earliest memories. As a kid we fished off the dock mostly, although occasionally our cousin would take us out in the small aluminum fishing boat with a 9.9 hp motor. Most of our fishing in those days was with a hook, worm and a bobber. I'm not sure when I stopped, but for years I didn't fish. Maybe it was because there was no one to take the fish off the hook if I was so lucky as to catch one. I had no problem with worms, but I never did want to touch the fish. Then I met my husband-to-be who was crazy about fishing, so much so he had just bought himself a fast running bass boat. So I started going out fishing with him, at first content to watch the fish finder. I realized quickly, this was very different from the fishing I had done as a child. and the more time I spent with him, and the more time I spent on the boat, the more complicated fishing seemed to become.

Unlike my childhood fishing this was serious stuff with a myriad of different types of lures, hooks, and baits of all shapes and sizes, and just as many ways to "fish them".  I learned there were TV programs dedicated to these different styles, and fishing shows you went to with retailers and live demonstrations about products and the best technique. I discovered there was a whole other vocabulary of wacky rigging, Texas rigging, drop-shot, crank-bait and jerk-bait. This was hardly the relaxing, "throw your line in the water" fishing I remembered.

As a perfectionist, I watched the TV shows and attended the demos at fishing shows, taking notes; I ask my husband a million questions, watching him closely trying to mimic his technique. I also accompanied him to stores dedicated to fishing, stocking a fishing bag form myself with every hook, weight and plastic bait I thought I would need to master fishing. Problem is there is no mastering fishing, it is a constant learning curve, which seems pretty steep most of the time.  

So this year as fishing season approached I decided to approach it differently, to be less concerned about getting it right and more about enjoying it, and enjoying my time on the water. This spring I didn't go looking to add more to my fishing bag or to buy the latest baits. This year I resolved to pick two or three types of bait and just throw them and see what happened.  I decided to pull out that bobber once again and just relax, to enjoy fishing like I had when I was kid.

Learning to let go is something I believe we all need to do. As I look at the world around me I see people striving to get it right, whether in careers or personal lives. We spend so much time worrying about whether we measure up that we miss out on the simple joys that are often in front of us. This brings to mind Jesus' words about worry, that God who takes care of birds of the air also promise to provide for what we  need (Matthew 6:25-30). I'm not always good at letting go, but I'm learning that the best moments of life rarely require the frantic energy and worry I put into them. May we all learn to let go and let God a little more often and be amazed what might come.