Believe it or not, I pulled out a decent sized wild trout from this hole. A small patch of water, a lot of brush, and barbed wire. How? Because Dad taught me to fish on streams like this. He began fishing at Rock Creek above Bishop CA in 1925, but moved south when too many fishermen crowded it. A narrow and shallow and brushy stream, herein unnamed but just south of Independence in the Owens Valley, became his go-to creek. No campsite, just a clear spot well toward the foothills. A rocky and rutted road leading to it. The few trees provided no cover from the skittish wild trout nor shade for us midday.
I lost countless hooks by allowing the line to drift too freely, catching a lot of branches and roots, both under and above water. Hundreds of times wild roses attracted my line like a magnet, requiring the loss of precious trout time to untangle the bird’s nest. Hundreds of wild trout darted to safety when I trod too hard, or unknowingly let my shadow cross the creek, or when I let the bait land too hard on the water. And fisherfolk face many other obstacles to pulling wily trout from their domain.
If Dad had been content to teach me just on well-stocked placid campground streams, I would have been limited to those, but his lessons transcended trout. If we only reach for the low-hanging fruit, the easy stuff, we never harvest from the more difficult places. That principle applies to much of walking with Jesus, but here’s two examples.
Bill. His wife convinced him to come to worship, and our church was closest. A sceptic of the first order, a self-proclaimed obstinate agnostic that relied on evidence, not wishful thinking. I challenged him on that: would he take a fair look at the evidence and go where it led? He felt safe and agreed. To see other believers in action he joined our small group, with a semi-joke that he knew he was now “their project.” He and I met, reading some books, some Bible, and reasoning together. No question was out of bounds, on either side.
A few months later, he told our group we needed a new project, he was committing his life to God. He’d been an honest hard case. A brushy stream for evangelism. Another case of a brushy stream came in my life, regarding ministry.
I liked most of school, but hated book reports. Once in 8th grade my knees made more noise than my voice. So my mom and academic counselor signed me up for speech class. Not my will. On the first day, the teacher asked who’d like to get out of speech class, my hand broke the speed of sound. The method: just join the debate team. In my ignorance, I traded 3 in-class speeches for what I thought would be us arguing around a table, but involved about 100 speaking events in tournaments. The brushiest stream I’d fished. Then Pepperdine offered a debate scholarship, and I was stuck in that brushy stream.
And what has been the foundation of my career? Speaking in a multitude of forms. OK, a couple of caveats. First, learn the skills needed. I would never have landed a brushy stream trout without God’s expert tutelage. Second, take the time to develop the skills. Remember, I lost a lot of line and hooks along the way. Third, bring God into the process. When you confront brushy streams, keep in mind God’s promise, “For nothing is impossible with God” (Luke 1:37).
Kick Starting the Application
What are some brushy streams you’d like to fish in, but feel overwhelmed? First, have you learned all you can, about how to speak to trout in brushy streams? How can you increase your skills level? And, how can you lean on God for strength and wisdom?