Fishing for Fulfillment

Sometimes it’s about the journey rather the finish line.

On a refreshingly cool summer day, a friend and I adventured to a nearby lake with our girls. The kids played in the water, rode boats, and ran through the sand. About halfway through the day, my friend pulled out kid fishing rods. I cringed. I have watched my husband spend hours untangling these rods. This was not how I envisioned my afternoon.

She took the rods out of the package and handed them to the kids. Typically, the next step would be to remove the plastic fish and replace it with a hook and bate. None of this happened.

The kids ran off. I observed them on the dock for about thirty minutes, I couldn’t contain my curiosity anymore. What were they doing? They had no hook, no bait, and no tackle box. How could they be fishing?

I strolled to the dock and observed the production as the kids stuffed leftover lunch in the tip top (top ring on the rod). They rubbed food on the plastic fish. The rod wasn’t getting tangled because there was no hook. Turtles even swam up and ate the food! They didn’t catch any fish but they were using their imagination and having a blast.

My performance-oriented mind was astounded. I returned to my friend and reported back. She didn’t seem phased at all.

As I shared this story with my husband, he immediately understood my incredulity. His response matched what was going on in my head. “How can you win, how can you catch fish and master this activity if you don’t have a hook?” He was joking of course but understood my bemusement. The thought of fishing without a hook is beyond us.

I learned a good lesson that day. Sometimes the goal isn’t what you think. In my head, the goal of fishing is to catch fish. My wise friend knew better. In this case, the “winning” was in the journey, not the outcome.

This reminds me of our journey with God. We set goals and feel frustrated and defeated when they don’t happen. What if the goal was wrong? Maybe our end goal isn’t God’s end goal.

Maybe it’s not about catching the fish, but rather what you do with the rod.