I’ve gone fishing with my dad for as long as I can remember, and I love it. I love everything about it, the shadowy fog shapeshifting across the lake in the early morning while we motor our way to a spot that looks nice and fishy. I love feeling the thump and tug on the line, reeling in a “fighter” while Dad cheers me on offering last-minute advice on setting the hook. I even love it when we get “skunked” and end up catching leaves and branches. It may sound dramatic, but I feel like my freest self when fishing. I tend to rush from one thing to the next, checking off tasks and accomplishing objectives, and find it difficult to slow down and just “be.” Somehow, on the water, I can. My mind rarely wanders to what I could or should be doing and, instead, relaxes into the soothing rhythm of casting, reeling, watching, and anticipating – and sometimes, catching and releasing!
A few years ago, Dad began having me operate the boat more. Driving it isn’t difficult, but getting the boat on and off the trailer is more stressful. Mercifully, he backs it in and out at the launch, but I’m the one that gets it on and off the trailer once in the water. I feel confident getting the boat off the trailer, but getting it back on is another story. The wind, the chop of the water, and the traffic of other boats and people add to the complexity and difficulty of the process. Once Dad says it’s time to head back, I begin to dread getting the boat on the trailer. I want to do it, but I dread the trial and error of it and tend to over-correct if things go sideways. One particular week, however, the water was eerily calm, the air was still, and there wasn’t anyone loading or unloading at the dock. Glory! I eased the boat up to the trailer, put it in neutral to let it slide into position, and then gave it gas to get it up into place. I got it on with the first try, but it seemed a little off – a tad high on the left side. We pulled into the parking area to finish the tying down routine anyway and realized it was indeed slightly high on the left, but not enough to keep it from transporting safely, so we went on our way. I was so relieved it hadn’t been a lengthy ordeal of multiple attempts. On the ride home, Dad encouraged me and mentioned that he struggles with remembering when loading the boat because he isn’t at the center. As you prepare to put a boat on the trailer, it’s natural to think of yourself as being in the center, but in his boat, the driver is on the right side. It sounds obvious, so simple, but that is exactly what I had been doing too. I was trying to center myself on the trailer – not the boat. As I filed this very helpful information away for future reference, it hit me. Far too often I’m trying to align my heart, mind, my life with me in the center. As long as I do that, I will always find myself off kilter. I might be able to keep going, to wrench myself up and get down the road, but I won’t be in that sweet spot of true alignment because - news flash - I am not the True Center.
I’m not the only fisherman that has had trouble focusing on the True Center. Peter had bold faith to join Jesus in walking on the water, but Matthew 14:30 says, “But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Peter was literally walking on water, how amazing is that?! But the moment he let his eyes wander to the wind, and his feet, the moment he let something else be his center, he began to sink. Friend, if you find yourself drifting, sinking today – look up, fix your eyes on Jesus. Read Matthew 14:22-33 and meditate on this truth – our Savior bids you “Come” as well. Keep your eyes on Him and He will hold you fast. Ask the Spirit to reveal anywhere you are trying in vain to be the center, and then take courage to align yourself to the only One worthy of that place. That’s the sweet spot.
