at the end of the line

The "skunk" is off. I'd never caught a white sea bass- until that one I'm hoisting in the photo. It weighed in at 44 pounds- an infant compared to the one our son John caught just minutes before mine. You can see his "bragging rights" photo at his blog . A HUGE fish.

A good friend welcomed us to his place in San Quentin, Mexico, shared his boat and skipper and God honored it all with an incredible couple of days of fishing. The drive down is long... but the road is beautiful. We did it all with high hopes of fish at the end of the line- pulling on something that'd really pull back -and it all worked out: for us... the fish definitely got the hard end of the deal.

Driving home Wednesday afternoon, John and I shared how it's way more fun to catch the fish- then it is to kill them. Each time we've killed a big fish... and it's not been that many times... there's definitely been a sence of remorse. That said, we stopped at our children's home in Tijuana on the way home and absolutely filled their freezer with enough fish for weeks to come. That felt right. That felt good.

You never know what's at the end of the line; it's one of the real joys of fishing, it's also one of lifes' biggest challenges- in times of excitement and reflection. My prayer today is that together we can trust God for good things at the end of the line.

blessings,

Eric