Reflections Part 1: Fly Fishing

I know I know. It's been a while. I have been home in Charlotte for about a week and some and have been adapting to the city life and life without the mountains surrounding me. It is quite disheartening sometimes. Here, you pay for EVERYTHING. Hiking. Climbing. It's so different. In Colorado, I could pick up and leave to the mountains any time I wanted. My heart is struggling to find its footing again. As much as I love change, I always forget that it takes a while before I am out of that shock-factor after change.

I've had some time to think about certain events and the more I look at my pictures, the more I remember the God-moments that were behind that camera view finder, uncaptured through the lense.

One of my favorite things in all life is fishing.

Give me a boy who will take me fishing and I might just fall for him.

Mr. Lendol, the husband of the lady who discipled me, took me fly fishing one afternoon. I had mentioned to Miss Becky that I have always really wanted to learn how. There is so much beauty in watching the cast and the landing of the little fly out in the unknown waters. She decided to take me...and let Mr. Lendol teach me.

Fly fishing is so delicate. You have to watch the current of the water and inspect every nook and cranny. In a bubbly brook, fishes are hiding underneathe rocks where the water is calmer than the rest of the current. Unlike lake fishing or river fishing, the fly you cast stays afloat. You have to keep your eye on it but it is so tiny that I often lost sight of it.

Fly fishing is all about feeling. You can't see if your rod is bent or the line is tense. You have to feel it bop and immediately yank at the line. You have to be patient and keep casting, having the exact amount of line to cast far away yet not too long that it will get caught on leaves and twigs as you cast. When the line flows down with the current, you have to gently cast it, without raising your wrist at the end of the cast. It truly is an art.

I had lots of fun casting but was a little discouraged not being able to catch anything. Mr. Lendol changed bait over and over to suit the fishes he thought we were dealing with. Still nothing. I decided to concentrate on the art of casting, perfecting the distance and amount of line I used. It was hard.

Somehow in all of that, my heart was really at peace. I thought about Jesus calling fishermen to be his disciples and I thought about all the things that fishing entails. Patience, endurance, skill in knowing what fish likes what bait and where the fish are hangin out. All these things we take for granted sometimes in life. When Jesus told his disciples that they were going to be fishers of men, I bet the same things kinda applied (Matt 4:19).

I guess being a missionary is kinda like being a fisherman. You have to have patience because often times, you are planting a seed and not harvesting it. It is only God that makes it grow, after all. You have to have endurance (James 1). Even when things look discouraging, you have to continue to press on, believing that all that you do does not go to waste (1 Corinthians 15:58). It is for the kingdom and not your glory( 1 Corinthians 10:31).

Skill. Alot of non believers use the line, "christians are hypocrites." Being a missionary does not make you any less supceptible to being a hypocrite. In fact, your whole life and witness is on the line. Knowing how to love and just be there for someone is so much more important in expanding the kingdom than preaching AT someone. I've been preached AT alot. I've been pretty turned off. (1 Corinthians 9:19-23)

Anyways, this is just the first of many more reflections I plan on writing. Maybe I'll compile all of this and make it my "mission" experience book. Hope you enjoy!