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I raced to our farmhouse, and ran up the steps,
called my dad’s name, but to no avail.
Then I saw the note he had tacked to the door:
“Gone fishin’, Honey, I want you to join me-
remember to bring the bait pail.”
My mind spun around, “Dad, what are you doing?”
He knew I was angry, needing to vent.
But he’d left a rod standing next to the note,
so I had no choice. I grabbed them together,
and down to the bay side I went.
I kicked at the sticks and the stones in the path,
too many things wrong in my life.
I was mad at God for letting them happen,
and I cursed everyone, apart from myself,
for causing my heartache and strife.
I fumed and I sputtered the entire way,
“Here I am, with my life gone to hell.
So what do you do, Dad? You go off fishin’.
And not only that, you leave me to carry
your disgustingly…squalid…old pail!”
But my attitude changed once I looked inside.
Wasn’t my life like that wriggling mess?
I recalled a verse about sowing and reaping,
which drove home the truth that I was to blame,
and conviction handled the rest.
When I got to the dock, my dad was waiting.
He patted the boards; I set down the pail.
I watched as he moved it to the other side,
then he patted the space beside him again,
and into his strong arms I fell.
He didn’t accuse me, never once scolded.
He let me cry, and then kissed all my tears.
When I was done, he just picked up the bucket.
Said, “Take out your ‘sins’, thread them onto your hook,
and let’s cast them away from here.”
We fished all day from that smelly old bucket-
dad reeling in bass…mine getting away.
But don’t worry, I didn’t leave empty handed,
for the best fishing turned out to be forgiveness
tied to a poll with mercy and grace.
“…and Thou wilt cast all their sins into the depths of the sea.” Micah 7:19 KJV
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