I’m not a fisherman or fisherwoman. I’m not even great help for a day on the water--I can’t back the boat trailer into the water, I’m good for about 2-3 hours of fishing, and I consume all snacks before noon. And as I have gotten older, I don’t even care for the sun--not even for the golden tan of my twenties. Nope, I’m a terrible fisherman’s wife.
But, love came to my doorstep in a maroon F150 truck 18 years ago and, now, here we are. We promised to be together through thick and thin, and now I’m wondering where a pandemic falls on that scale. I've been stuck inside with a guy who hasn't been on the water in 8 weeks.
We made a commitment in January 2020 that this was the year...the year we would go for it one more time and if it wasn’t a successful year, then we would give up tournament fishing and shift that focus to a hobby or outing with the kids. That’s a tough decision and without some faith and letting go, could be fishing under pressure. We decided to let go more to what WE wanted to happen and trust God to unfold His ultimate plan.
Wow, I wasn’t anticipating a pandemic, job loss or being home together for 8 straight weeks to fall into the mix of that plan.
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