Have you ever stood on the end of a pier and looked out into the vast beyond of the sea? Since I was a young boy I have always loved water; it probably is because we vacationed at the ocean most summers. Some people don’t like the ocean, some are afraid of it, some people don’t like having to clean off their feet after going in the sand. For me, there is always a rush of emotions because I find amazement at what God has designed on this earth but there’s also a fear of the unknown as I look beyond what I can see.
This summer has posed complex problems and moments where I feel like I have nowhere to turn. As I have begun navigating this life now as the Patriarch of my family at age 36 instead of the “patriarch in waiting”, there are moments of those same emotions as standing on the pier and looking out into the sea. I have amazement of what God has given me in my family and also done for us as I reflect on where we have come from, but I have moments of great fear as I look out into the unknown, without the physical presence of my earthly father.
Sometimes, the truth is whether or not our dad’s were able to be there for us, there was just a comfort of knowing that they were just one call away. They could be there in a moment SHOULD we need something. My father had an extreme proclivity for blowing leaves and the last two falls, he came down to my house and did it with my boys while my daughter stood on the back deck telling him all the spots he may have missed. It’s more than leaves however, there have moments of financial stress, job changes, etc. that sometimes, the very presence of of a dad being there was able to bring stability, even without the uttering of a word.
It’s what we as men crave. Many of us, we know that we are called by God to lead our families. We know our wives face stresses that we can’t even begin to imagine as they nurture and guide our homes while we work outside the home. But sometimes, in our stress and the problems that we face as Patriarchs or patriarch in waiting, is that we just need someone to be there for us and offer guidance. Same goes for our wives. They need another mother, and older woman in the faith speaking into them and nurturing them as they nurture the children.
Awhile back, I began listening to a book called Fathered By God by John Eldredge. In this book he tells of a story of when he was learning how to fish, he was always trying to white knuckle it on his own as he wrestled with this hobby that he desired yet that his father did not provide true instruction. As he was fishing one time, he was intimidated to ask another fisherman for help. It wasn’t until he showed he worked up the courage to move down the river and observe the seasoned angler that he finally let out a cry for help.
I relate to this. I think many of us do whether you’re an aspiring fisherman or not. God has designed the Christian walk to be just like this. Growing up, fishing was a sport I was never able to really do when I was younger but always yearned to be a part of. I remember asking my dad to go ad nauseam when I was younger. This summer, I decided I was getting my kids into it whether my wife was on board or not (I don’t normally recommend that just as an FYI) and even though my fishing knowledge doesn’t surpass much more than what a fishing pole is and some basic knowledge of what fish are, we were going to venture out into the “water”; pun intended.
To be honest with you, it’s been challenging at times fixing bird’s nests every other cast in the beginning, but just recently, my two older boys got the hang of it so much so that they’re now casting their spinning reels without my help and fishing on their own. Each one of my children have caught their first fish, which is more than their parents can say at this point. I watched my six year old reel in a nice sized bass all on his own, I watched my seven year old wait so patiently all day while each of his siblings, including the 3 year old caught a fish and he was the only one who hadn’t. And then of course as it was, on the last cast, he caught a fish.
I watched a little boy leap into the air for joy. I was crying, I’m crying now even typing this out. These are the little victories that we have had so far and I pray we get some bigger ones this weekend as we go out. You might be reading this and thinking something to the tune of “how sweet!?”, or you might be asking “ok but tie it in to what you said before”. Both of those utterances would be valid; these moments wouldn’t have happened without one key event taking place.
I had to swallow my pride and ask for help.
As is almost every thing in being a husband, father, friend, etc.
The issue is this:
We are afraid to ask for help.
Call it stubbornness, call it pride, call it whatever you want – we are not accustomed to weakness.
As we began our journey into fishing – I could very quickly understand why most kids learn how to fish NOT on a spinning reel. The birds nests that were created…and fixed…were truly something of a magnificent sort. That reasoning follows from a simple fact that the kids, no matter how much I told them, cranked the reel the opposite way first and then attempted to correct it causing line to go underneath the reel and get wound around it. I fixed it to the best that I could that day and thought I really got it so I continued to fish with it as it was – handicapped.
Recently, we were fishing on a pier on vacation and after multiple moments of muscling through, I had the thought “this shouldn’t be this hard”. I looked over to my right and saw this older gentleman fishing without a care in the world. I looked to my left and saw my wife and kids fishing without a care in the world. Then there was me. Fishing with every care in the world because it wasn’t working right. I started reeling in my line and sliding down the pier and I finally mustered the courage to ask for help.
This is the crescendo of everything I want to address:
This man, his name was Steve (big ups to Steve btw), he didn’t greet me with a half sincere hello. He was genuinely enthused to help out a struggling guy and the truth is, he didn’t just tell me how to fix it – he showed me how to fix it. He said with his smoke-filled raspy voice, “bring ‘er over buddy”.
He knelt down and step by step taught me how to loosen my reel and take it right off and get underneath it and cut the line that was trapped and had been trapped sine the first time we used it. He set the reel back on the spindle, taught me the proper drag tension, and said to me as he puffed his smoke with this smirk of victory, “now give ‘er a go”.
See, while I’m using fishing, the application is clear. The devil uses many lies to keep men in this stagnant position of fear.
“If this ever gets out, who will love me?”
“How will someone respond when I tell them what I’ve done?”
“They’re gonna think so much less of me if I ask for help.”
These are all, putrid, sad, lies that keep men from experiencing the intimacy of the Christian walk with other brothers. This is what the Lord designed and desires for all of His children. God strategically placed Steve on that pier that day for not just me, but my whole family – I’m now a pro at fixing bird’s nests. But there are many Steve’s in all of our lives and I thank God that I have some beside me that help dispel those many lies in my own head. I didn’t have any birth siblings – but to my boys, you’ve become the brothers God intended me to have.
To the many who might feel alone or that you might not have a “Steve”, you’re not. If you open your eyes, he might already be there in your life and you might not have realized it yet. Don’t let something hold you back from asking for help – you’re going to find someone eager to not just tell you about a solution, but someone who will walk with you and help you get there. Hopefully you sink a few worms along the way, too.
God bless you,
BMT
The Fire & The Flood 