• April 30, 2022

If only my fishing pole could talk

It’s been a very busy week, more than any other week. Just when I thought I was trapped, something else showed up without my permission.

That seems to be what life is about. I remember my father telling me when he was complaining about how busy my life was and how my employer wanted me to work hard, “Son, that’s life.

Surely he was right. My father has been right many times, and if he had only listened to him, he would not have experienced some of the problems that I did. Don’t let him know I said that.

In the midst of trying to clean up my mess this week, I sat back in my chair, sighed heavily, and then noticed my old fishing pole in the corner of my office.

It’s been there ever since we moved into this house. I forgot it was there, and as she watched it, I was reminded of some of the times I had with that old fishing pole.

I smiled and thought, “If that fishing rod could talk,” what stories could the fishing rod tell?

As a young man, he spent a lot of time fishing. My grandfather taught me the art of fishing. He was a great fisherman and had many great stories about his fishing adventures.

I remember one day I spent fishing with him. That night, around the kitchen table, he began to recount his fishing exploits. I sat there listening in amazement. The stories he told had nothing to do with the day we spent fishing together.

He looked at me in the middle of the story and said, “Isn’t that right?” Of course, I will never contradict my grandfather. I know that one day I will be in his shoes and I want to make sure I have earned the right to wear them.

Nodding her head enthusiastically, she said, “It sure is, Grandpa.” He smiled and continued with the story.

Looking back, I wished I had made notes of all their stories. It would have been a fascinating book to read, I’m sure.

It is not that the fishermen tell lies; rearrange the truth. What good is the truth unless you can embellish it for the entertainment of those who listen?

My grandfather certainly entertained people with his stories. I never knew if people believed his stories or not; no one ever contradicted him. They listened, laughed and enjoyed every story he told.

Once, after one of his narrative episodes, we were in the garage working on some of his fishing gear. We were alone, so I thought it might be a good time to find out what he was doing.

“Grandpa,” I said thoughtfully, “where do you get all those fishing stories you tell us?”

He looked at me, laughed out loud and said, “All those fishing stories I get when I go out to the creek to fish.”

Then he looked at me, winked at me and said, “Just remember. There is some truth to every story I tell. It’s up to the listener to find out what’s true and what’s not.” Then she lets out a burst of laughter.

With a solemn look on his face, he continued, “The important thing about fishing is not just to catch fish, but to entertain your family and friends with what you could have done if it had gone well.”

As I sat in my office looking at my fishing pole, I begin to understand for the first time what my grandfather was trying to say.

I spent a bit of time reflecting on some of Grandpa’s stories, and even now, I was laughing. His stories never get old, and my laugh never goes away.

One of the things I learned from my grandfather in regards to fishing is that you have to make the most of everything you do.

I remember a friend who went fishing and came back grumpy and complained that he hadn’t caught anything. No fun being around him, no doubt. All he could think about was what he didn’t do.

My grandfather was quite different.

“Did I tell you,” Grandpa began a story, “about the fish that got away?” He never waited for an answer, but went straight to the story, and every time he told that story, the fish got a little bigger.

Everyone would laugh and enjoy the story almost as much as Grandpa telling it.

The fish that got away was more important to my grandfather than the fish he caught and brought home. Once you bring the fish home, cook it and eat it, that’s the end of it. But the fish that got away is a story that goes on and on.

I never knew if my grandfather was lying or just exaggerating. Being my grandfather, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and only remembered his stories.

Thinking about my grandfather’s stories, I remembered something that Jesus said. “And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:32).

My grandfather could exaggerate his fishing stories for the enjoyment of all who would listen. When it comes to real truth, the only truth that matters is Jesus Christ. Only the truth of him can really set us free.

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