Dad's Love

I remember my dad and I setting out trotlines when I was a kid. For those of you uneducated types, a trotline is a line of hooks that you set in the river to catch not just one, but many, many fish. They usually have 20-30 hooks, so your chances are much better. In my younger days, the Paluxy River in Bluff Dale, TX ran a little stronger than it does today, and we were often able to catch catfish by the dozen on a trot line.

To have the best results on a trotline, you have to bait the hooks late in the evening, and come back early in the morning to retrieve the fish. (Actually, according to my dad, the BEST way is to go back at midnight, remove the fish, and rebait, but that takes a unique motivation.) Also, the best time to catch the most fish is early spring, when the water hasn't quite warmed up yet.

So in my 9 years of life, there were a few things I knew about the river. 1. It was cold. 2. There were water moccasins (and many other types of snakes and animals). My dad had actually told me a story about when he was baiting a trotline one night (that same year), a water moccasin swam up to him because it smelled the baitfish. Dad, guided by his headlight, hit the snake on the head with the bucket of minnows, and it fearfully swam away. "Don't worry Jobe, they're more scared of you than you are of them." Uhhhhh Huh.

So off we went at about 9:00 to bait the trotline. I couldn't wait to be in that dark, cold, venemous snake filled water. I remember trying to think of a reason why I couldn't go, but not wanting to disappoint Dad, I decided to brave it. The water was frigid (it actually does get cold in Texas), but once I got in past a certain point, I got used to it. So my job was to hold the minnow bucket (pronounced minna buckit), while Dad baited the hooks. At one point the water was up over my head, so I was treading water in my tennis shoes, with the minna buckit in one hand, the other hand on the trot line, and a bug-swarmed flashlight in my mouth. That's when I heard it. "Kerplop...." Something dropped in the water about 20 feet in front of us. It was pitch black, so we didn't actually see what it was. Could have been a frog, turtle, muskrat, etc. But in my mind there was no doubt that it was that water moccasin that Dad had ticked off earlier, headed straight for my minna buckit. Scared, cold, and shaking from both, I wanted out of that water so badly, I could see Snoopy on my blanket in my dry, warm, non water moccasin bed.

But of course, we pressed on. You really can't stop two hooks into a 20 hook trotline. I made it out somehow unattacked, and the next morning we woke up to check the line. I remember being so excited as we drove down to the river. The anticipation as we picked up that line to find it full of fish was pure childhood joy.

I thought of this story the other day when I was interacting with my oldest son Jackson. Even though he's only two, I am starting to see things through my father's eyes from years ago. This also has really pointed me to God, and His fathering of those who are called by His name. You see my Dad knew how scared I was. He knew how cold I was, he probably knew I was miserable, and was in the last place I ever wanted to be. But he also knew that if I would just hang on, just a little longer, that it would be worth it, and that I would experience so much joy in the end. He did this not only for my joy, but for his as well, because it brought him joy to see me so excited about the fish. But he knew that I couldn't have that joy, unless I braved the moccasins.

Seems like a simple concept, but isn't this just how God is? He has us in situations in which we desperately want to quit, but we desperately need to press on. We have to keep treading water, or we will never experience the joy that He's waiting to see on our faces, and that he so deeply wants to celebrate with us. We also have to parent this way. We cannot run around rigging our kids lives so that they never experience pain, or fear, or shame, or consequences. Of course, we have to be there with them to guide, and love, and explain, and love some more. But we absolutely have to have an approach to parenting that looks at the whole picture. It has to be one that trusts our Father, gives enough guidance and structure, but allows enough suffering to grow God seeking, truly joy-filled children. May this perspective be true of us as parents, and may our children, when they are grown, thank us for what we allowed them to endure for their (and even our) greater good.

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