When doubt is good

I was excited to see a friend from church there. Bill was a man that I developed a great deal of respect for. He was smart, articulate and confident. Although he never struck me as the fisher type, I surmised that he had entered the derby more for the camaraderie of fellow man, rather than the machismo of going for a trophy trout.

Regard for Bill extended beyond my own perceptions. He was a noted apologist – one who could the reasonableness of his faith to new heights. He was an expert in the proofs behind creation. He could literally rip out evolutionary thought by its hair strands – one at a time or in chunks if necessary. He could quote Scripture and debate the pundits. He owned a business and had a great family. This was a man who had it all together.

However, as the weekend progressed, my perception of this perfect man crumbled. He could not fish.

As a boy, he had fished a small pond near his farm home with a great deal of success. He always used the same lure with the same setup casting to the same hole. It was a sure thing. Each Saturday he would come home with a stringer full of fish. Like money in the bank, little Bill could be counted on to bring home the finned creatures.

Now, fishing in the terrain of the Rocky Mountains in deeper, colder water, the old faithful lure let him down. It was a bust. Cast after cast brought no strikes, no nibbles. He dragged weeds and caught sticks but nary a fish. Still, he insisted on “Ole Trusty.”

Needless to say, Bill did not win the derby.

There’s a reason he did not win. You see, fishing calls for a certain amount of trial and error. It calls for literal faith – that what you offer is what the fish will take. But within this faith is a degree of doubt.

Doubt presses you to change patterns and use different imitations.

If you did not have doubt, you would do as Bill did – cast the same thing over and over again, regardless of results. Doubt is the perfecter of fishing.

And life.
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