This weekend I had the absolute pleasure and privilege of fishing with my grown son. He's pushing 40 now, a big man well over six feet, strong and muscular. Hugging him is a bit like hugging a refrigerator that hugs back.
The fishing wasn't spectacular, quite slow in fact. What had been a great fishing hole has filled in quite a bit with gravel from the past high water and is now just a mediocre at best fishing hole. But when you get to fish with your son, then the fishing is fantastic no matter what.
I've been fishing with him since he was big enough to get into a home made boat. And every single time has been a blessing. Now that he is grown and married and living far off, these fishing trips are spread out a lot more, and of course each trip now is even more special because of that.
While we were fishing a young father and son team came up in a kayak and fished near us. The boy was maybe six years old, the father didn't fish, he put all his attention into helping his son have a great experience. And a great experience the boy had too, I could tell, his voice was filled with excitement and joy, and you should have heard him when he caught a fish!
Two father and son fishing teams, side by side, miles apart in years. I envied that father for the wonderful times he has ahead of him as he watches his son grow into a fine man. There is no better thing in the world than this, I know, I've been where he is and further down that trail, and it is life's greatest joy.