Count The Casts Not The Fish

Beetle Spin. Whopper Plopper. Wacky Worm. Bomber Badonk-A-Donk. Whatever lure you throw, patience can be a fisherman’s greatest strength.

Lately I’ve dubbed some of my Fridays as “fishing Friday.” I take the morning to explore new waterways and attempt to sample their fishery populations by means of rod and reel. I’m not after trophies. I don’t generally keep the fish to eat. I’ve simply enjoyed being on the water and catching whatever might fall for my clumsily presented bait. I’ve lost many lures, broken a rod, and said a few choice words under my breath, but overall these Fridays have been productive and refreshing. They have settled me into enjoying the process, admiring the amazing colors of each catch, and taking a deep breath.

It would be dishonest to say that I don’t think about the potential amount of fish I could catch or the possibility of landing a lunker. That thought is always present. But a full stringer of hawgs is rare.

The same is true in ministry. As a parish pastor, I long for the door to be cracked slightly with an invitation into someone’s life. That invitation often takes many, many moments of being present, asking questions, listening, and waiting. Sometimes it’s a just a nibble, but even that holds hope. The idea of being present over the long haul is what Brad Roth, a Mennonite pastor in rural Kansas, suggests as “counting the casts not the fish.” I like that metaphor. It helps bring expectation into the mundane. It settles me down to reality like a fisherman leaning back in his chair anticipating a long afternoon.

Small town ministry is probably not going to fetch a mega-Church, but constant presence eventually builds relationship and can lead to a healthy parish ministry where your community begins to see who this Jesus is. Pull up a chair, cast again, and again, and again, and again. Watch and see what the Lord does. Futility doesn’t exist when Jesus is at hand in ministry.