It was an overcast day, not really cold, but drizzling. I was about 7 or 8 years old, and I had gone fishing for “Shad” with my Dad on Margate Pier (on the Kwa-Zulu Natal south coast). I remember the frenetic activity, huge, burly men, in oilskins and raincoats. The most wonderful smell of bait sardines still lingers in my nostrils.

I remember feeling really small, and tiny amongst these ‘giants’. My Dad told me to ‘bait up” under the baiting tables, because I couldn’t reach. Hands shaking excitedly I slit the sardine down the middle, placed the hook and trace down the spine, and bound it in cotton thread. I was ready!

As I stood up, I realised that my little bamboo fishing rod was really bent, with the weight of the bait and the lead ’sinker’. Never mind, I’d still be able to catch a huge Shad! My Dad just smiled at me, and led me to the front ‘kiddies’ section of the pier. I looked at my Dad as he waited patiently for me, and then with a mighty, calculated heave, I cast my ‘load’ out to sea.

As the line became taut I peered over the side to see my line hanging directly below me, in the water about 2m out from the rocks below.

“Aw no! I’ll never catch anything there! I better cast again!”
“No, don’t”, replied my Dad, “You’ll catch something - just be patient.”
“Okay” I mumbled, not really convinced.

I saw my Dad weave his way through the fishermen, and the rods, which looked like reeds waving in the wind. Time dragged on..and on…and on. I peered over the side from time to time. Not even a bite! I often thought about reeling in, re-baiting, and casting again, but I trusted my Dad.

Suddenly, the tip of my rod ‘dived’ down towards the sea. A bite! A big one!

“Dad!” I screamed.
“Dad!” I was besides myself with excitement, shouting, jumping up and down!

I looked frantically from side to side for my Dad, and also noticed (with pride) how fisherman were looking at me, as I battled this monster Shad from the deep. I wound in the wriggling fish, and as I started to panic bout how I was going to lift it over the side, a pair of strong hands covered mine, and hauled the beautiful green and silver fish over the rails.

“Dad!”
“Dad!”
“Dad!” I screamed, and laughed, and wanted to cry.

I ‘wrestled’ my fingers into the gills (with a great deal of effort) and carried my catch and my rod back to the baiting tables. I was so proud! My cheeks were cramping from the smiling! I kept looking at my Dad, and beaming. He had a huge grin on his face.

“Well done”, “It’s massive!”, “It’s the biggest one today!” - my Dad kept saying. I thought my heart would burst with pride, and love for my Dad.
It is a very special memory…

Shortly after my Dad’s funeral, I was talking to my mother, and I reminisced about that special day. My mother laughed!

“Oh yes! I forgot about that! Your Dad caught a big Shad, and he snuck down under the pier. He grabbed your line and re-hooked the fish on to your line.”

At first I was shocked, then disappointed, and then angry! It was a lie! I had been tricked!

A while after that I saw it from a different perspective. I saw things through my father’s eyes, and I learned some lessons about my Heavenly Father:

  • My Heavenly Father protects me, shields me, and shelters me from my worst enemy - myself.
  • No matter what ‘tools’, abilities, and talents I have, my Father stands over me - guiding and encouraging me against all odds.
  • My Father is doing things behind the scenes, that I am not aware of. To make things happen…to fulfil His will…and to give pleasure to His child, for His Glory.
  • The lack of patience in stressful times, and against logic, can bring about doubt, which in turn could lead to making poor decisions, and hurtful consequences.
  • Trust in God the Father, He always has our best interests at heart. He is an encourager, a ‘grower’, and a father. He knows what’s best, and he see the big picture.
  • My Father in Heaven doesn’t reveal all to me at once. He is Truth. His promises are Yes! and Amen! He wants me trust in Him!

So was I deceived? Was one of my fondest childhood memories broken and stained?

No…it was enriched by the fact that a father tried to save his son from embarrassment, humiliation, frustration, and defeat. I learned that a fathers love for his son can be unconditional, and that he would endanger himself to provide a moment joy and pride for his son.

I learned that my fathers heart on that day…was the Father’s heart!

Thanks Dad…

By Justin Lippiatt
Email: JustinLi@Nedbank.co.za
Reprinted with permission

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