Oceans For Emotions: Getting prepared for God, Gulf
"I go to prepare a place for you."
- John 1:14
Having just celebrated my 77th birthday here in my hometown of Victoria, I was embarrassed to admit that I didn't know that South Texas sometimes celebrated the monsoon season.
Every time I got out my fishing tackle and began to load it into the car, the lightning and thunder started, and I could imagine the sky pouring itself out onto the bay waters at Indianola.
This time when I gave up, I didn't store my tackle away. I just brought it into the house and put it into my formal living room on my brocade antique chair. I didn't want to get it dirty - the tackle that is.
Needing something to do while I waited for the weather to clear up, I put my tackle box on my marble top coffee table and slowly started cleaning it up. I figured I had more time to clean the tackle box in the house than I would ever find time to clean the tackle box on the beach.
I cleaned the top shelf first by cutting all of the strings that I had left dangling from hooks when I was changing from treble to straight hooks. Then I found all of the little bits of line that I had left hanging from swivels and removed them.
So, that left the top drawer to receive the straight hooks, the treble hooks and the swivels each separated by their own little compartments.
In the next tray, I took all of the string off the weights that were waiting to be removed. I started with the pea weights on the right side and gradually filled each compartment with weights of similar sizes until I ended with a 3-ounce spider weight that I only use in the Gulf.
The next shelf I decorated with pretty little artificial lures of various types and colors. I don't use them often because I think lying to a hungry fish is really using tacky tackle.
I organized the corks into the bottom compartment, but I never can figure out why I have more corks than sticks to fit into them - but that is the way of the tackle-box.
Then I had to take off all of the old fishing line on my rods and reels and put on new line.
But now, I have to choose which new fishing shirt that I got for my birthday I will wear to my beach.
Dear Lord, Oops, You just stopped Your rain so when You see me at Indianola Beach, we'll both be ready to meet. I will be the most organized and prepared 77-year-old fisherwoman that you will ever see. The hat never changes.