Fishing and slowing down

     Our intrepid group of trout fisherpersons from Cane River.  Thank goodness we took this photo right before we braved the streams for the first time.  If we had a picture from later this same day, you would have seen a group of filthy, soaking wet, bruised, tired yet happy campers!  But at this point, we were still lookin' good and feeling hopeful that we might catch some rainbow trout (and throw them all back, of course) and escape unscathed from multiple falls on the slippery rocks.  Well, one out of two ain't bad!
     I just read the following by Ann Voscamp: "Life is not an emergency.  Life's a gift.  Just slow."  And "Sometimes the slowest way is the fastest way to joy.  Make time today, even a moment, to read Scripture and memorize it.  Without the lens of His Word, the world warps.  {Slowest=fastest to joy}"
     This reminded me of fishing.. and perhaps that is the reason so many people love to fish.  Because, believe me, fishing can be sloooooow.  Trout fishing is a bit different since you are constantly moving and climbing and hiding behind rocks, but still, even trout fishing requires inordinate amounts of patience.  Turns out these rainbow and brook trout are remarkably brilliant creatures and can spot us lumbering upstream a mile away.  They laugh at us as we make casts with out little trout flies landing gently on the rushing stream.  And they rarely, and I mean rarely, actually strike the fly.  Most of the time you just cast and cast and lumber along and fall and slip and stumble and cast some more... while the fish all just laugh and laugh. I'm glad we can entertain them.
     Yep, fishing requires patience and the gift of slowing down.  If you try to move quickly on the slippery rocks, you can just forget it--you are going down... hard.  So you have to climb carefully and slowly and deliberately.  And with that slower pace you just can't help but drink in the incredible beauty all around you.  At every turn, a new vista of God's untamed glory--all to be seen and savored sloooowly.

          Why do I live my life as if everything is an emergency?  Why do I always feel as if I have to rush and hurry... and as a result, worry?  O Lord, slow us down to see and savor You and Your gifts to us each and every moment of every day.  In my haste, I miss the blessings of the small--the butterfly alighting on my book, the twinkle in a child's eye, the chorus of a beloved song, the sublime taste of chocolate lingering on my tongue, the sound of rushing water, the laughter and stories shared with my siblings, the hug of my husband, the clean, green scent of the woods, the whirring sound of hummingbird wings, the joy of reading God's Word and discovering His words just for you that day, the sound of a loved one's voice, the stars piercing the inky black sky, the crashing thunder that shakes the house, the joy of reading to my little guy at night, the smile on a teenager's face (yes, they actually can smile and the view is awesome!), the glint of sunlight on the leaves.
     How much do we miss every day in our haste and hurry?  Forgive us Father, and slow us down.  Like the fisherman patiently plumbing the depths of Your rushing waters, show us how to savor the journey rather than constantly rushing to reach the destination.  I don't want to miss the blessings You have for us along the way--all the surprises planned and planted along the path by our Sovereign Heavenly Daddy.  Help us not to miss them, Father, and remind us to be grateful.  Might we live this day seeing, savoring, and saying thank You.   To our gift-giving God be all the glory.