Thursday, April 29, 2021                  (today’s lectionary)
Memorial of Saint Catherine of Siena, Virgin and Doctor of the Church
First time fishing
Paul and his companions set sail.
I dangled my feet in the water. Jasper stretched his legs out as far as he could, I held onto the back of his pants, and he dangled his feet in the water. Miles looked at us. “I want to dangle my feet in the water, Grandpa.” So he pulled off his shoes and socks. He giggled. The water was a little cold.
Marc set up our fishing poles. We bought bait from Reagan and rented a short Shakespeare rod and reel just the right size for Jasper. We were ready for Moby Dick’s “best little fishing pond in central Texas.” Was it ready for us?
God exalted our people in Egypt, and with uplifted arm he led them out, then for forty years he put up with them in the desert.
Down a rocky dirt road to the pond, we headed into what felt like wilderness. Compared to the smooth roads of north Austin, it was wilderness. The wind kept us from catching fish at first, but it also kept the bugs away. No flies. Amazing.
After an hour we ate lunch.  After lunch we finally took Reagan’s advice and walked further around the pond to a small “kid’s lake.” Jasper stomped and splashed through every puddle. An ancient, rusty truck beckoned to us, but we persisted on our path. Once we got to the little lake, we took off our bobbers and threw weighted worms into the middle and let them sink. Right away we could feel fish pulling on the worms, and in no time we caught three fish plus a turtle. Catch, take a picture, release, catch another one. Something for each of us, even a largemouth bass.
The favors of the Lord we will sing forever, and through all generations our mouths will proclaim your faithfulness. Forever I will sing of the goodness of the Lord.
So thanks to Marc, and to owners Andy and Reagan, Miles and Jasper each reeled in a fish on their first trip. The pond’s rules required releasing the fish after we caught them, so we didn’t even have to clean them later. Everyone pretty much fell asleep on the way home, gliding back along the smooth concrete of an Austin flyway, past the airport, past the shining downtown skyscrapers, away from the rocks and rusty truck and birds and woods and shining water in the sun.
Maybe we won’t go fishing again for awhile. Or … maybe we will.
(Acts 13, Psalm 89, Revelation 1, John 13)
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