Psalm of a Fisherman

O Lord, my heart is in anguish.

My soul is troubled.

I travel far distances for angling success, yet return home defeated.

My eyes look to the heavens and pray for favor, yet I have none .

I cry out; “Lord, deliver these aquatic creatures to me.” But you do not hear me.

They dart to the left of my fly, and to the right. But bite they do not.

They mock my every way. They leap over my strike indicator; they cast indignant glances at my submerged rig.

O, what a wretched fisherman am I!

I cannot catch what I want to catch, but do catch what I do not.

A rotting leaf or aquatic grass are common trophies, but no fish do I land.

O what a tangled line I cast!

Shrub branches reach out to me and cause me grief, entangling my tippett.

Trees, which have no legs, run to my folly. In their branches lay my fly.

A successful cast, a natural drift, a twitch of my strike indicator, and the setting of a hook is all I yearn for. Yet it does not happen.

Why, O Lord, can I not catch a fish?

Are my motives impure? Does a plank lay in my eye, which I cannot see? I have questions but no answers.

Torment is added to my spirit: A boy to my left who has not obtained manhood, withdraws your finny creations from the crystal-clear waters with ease.

Adults with less experience than I, do the same on my right.

Why, O Lord, is my hook barren.

Why, O Lord, is my line slack.

Though I walk through the river in the shadow of bluffs, I fear no fishless day, for you are with me. The rod & staff I received for Christmas comforts me.

Yet, try as I may, my line remains limp.

I scratch and claw myself over jagged rocks to find that place of refuge for those willing silvery underwater flashes of light that will bite, but I find none.

O Lord, why have you cast this spell on me? Why, Lord, is your favor on those around me?

I cry out for an answer, but I hear none.

But, Lord, I know that all you do is for my good.

I patiently wait on you, Lord, for that nibble on my line.

But even if a fish does not bite, I will have faith in you. One day, you will deliver the creatures of the deep into my hands.

And when you do, Lord, I will handle them with care, respect, and justice. Only barbless hooks will grace their lips. In a net with the constitution of a pillow, they will lay.

After a brief acquaintance, they will be set free.

They will be delivered from my grasp, yet will have made my heart sing.

But until that day, Lord, I will raise my eyes to the nature which you have created.

I will marvel at the birds circling high above the trees. I will embrace the cool breeze that graces my cheek.

Lord, I will bask in the gentle warmth of the sun, which you created. I will sit down on rocks which somehow embrace me in a warm hug when I pause to rest my weary bones.

Lord, you are good. I will count the blessings that you rain upon me until that which I desperately yearn for is cast upon my angling adventures.

I trust in you, Lord, to one day draw my line taunt, put a bend in my rod, and allow me to heave into my net, a specimen from the deep of unequal qualities.

For God, your ways are always for my good and I will trust in them for ever and ever. Amen