Stinking fish and fast currents

Fish stink. I don't mind eating them, but catching and cleaning them is better left to …real men. I have ventured into the waters and cast my hook into the deep, and those times were meaningful. This particular morning was crisp, even as the sun cleared the sky of clouds. A draped backdrop of Alaskan mountains capped with dabs of snow lingered from the endless winter nights. My fiancé and I drove to the two-mile mark and unloaded our gear next to a small eddy. The swirling water provided a backwash and momentary respite for fish making their way upriver. Untangling the borrowed net, we cast it in hopes of snagging a succulent Sockeye Salmon.

For twelve hours, we persisted with little success. If not for the beautiful company, I would have given up hours ago. The sun dipped slightly behind the distant mountain singling us to pack our gear. Then the net wiggled! We caught something! The small boat next to the shore served as a ferry. Hand over hand, I checked every inch of the net until water splashed my face from the thrashing fish. It wasn't the largest salmon, but it was ours. In my enthusiasm, I let go of the net, and the strong current of the Chilkoot river tugged at the small boat until it sucked me downstream. 

I held the panic at bay and grabbed the rubber knob on the engine rope, and pulled. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. Again and again, I pulled the roped, checked the choke, and prayed. The boat moved quickly, but it wasn't the speed or where the river was taking me that drove my fear. It was the large debris that could poke a hole, flip, or sink the small craft. I pulled the rope again—a slight sputter. At the moment before I resigned myself to be swept away, the engine sputtered alive.

When I pulled into the backwash, Rebecca's reception made it all worthwhile. I had faced the monster of the deep and survived. Salmon never tasted so good.

Jesus calls us to be fishermen. The hours are long, and for some, the catch is meager, and for others, it is bountiful (Two miles up from us they couldn't clear their nets fast enough). Like the river, however, life can carry us places we never thought of going. Currents of greed, eddies of lust, and debris of anger and bitterness threaten us every day.  That's why we are told to watch and be ready. Watch for opportunities and be prepared to share the gospel (2 Timothy 4:2). Watch for the evil one, and be ready to run from his temptations (2 Timothy 2:22). Watch for the Lord's return, and be prepared when he calls your name and says, "well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into my joy" (Matthew 25:21). Watch the distant horizon, and be ready for the long obedience (Matthew 24:13). 

When the sun sets behind the distant horizon, and we are ushered into the great banquet hall, seeing Jesus will have made the journey worthwhile. I'm just saying.