I was married to a fisherman, an avid fisherman. Almost as soon as we were engaged, he was planning our dream honeymoon on the shores of Chandos Lake in Canada. He was eight years old when his parents bought property around the lake and built a log cabin. He spent every summer there and that's where his love of fishing began. Whether he was standing on the shore or in a boat on the water, he spent countless hours doing what he loved. I'll never forget that first week. I knew I was in trouble the minute we arrived. There were two ways to get to the cabin. One was by boat (which we were towing), or maneuvering our car around boulders on a dirt road. We docked the boat at a small marina and drove to the cabin. I have to admit, my first view of the cabin was breathtaking. It was situated on a point where a bay joined the main part of the lake. Inside there was a wood burning stove and blue gingham curtains hung on the windows. My one challenge was the lack of indoor plumbing. I have to admit I was horrified when he threw a hose into the lake and connected it to a pump! We spent the rest of the day unpacking and settling in. It wasn't until the next morning I realized my husband's love for fishing was more like an addiction. I woke up to a beautiful sunny morning. As a new bride, I was adjusting to the joy of waking up to find the man I loved lying beside me, only this day, there was no man. Instead I found a note and a foghorn. Unbeknownst to me, he had risen before sunrise and headed out on the lake. The note he left simply said, “Went fishing. Stand on the shore and blow the fog horn and I'll come in. I love you!” Needless-to-day, I was not impressed; however, he was a man of his word and came in when I blew the foghorn. I had never been one for the great outdoors so I had to make a decision. I finally decided, “if you can't beat em, join em.” This involved learning how to fish. The first step was going to the bait shop. I couldn't even imagine touching anything slimy so when my eyes landed on some black, rubber worms, with hot pink tails, I told myself, “You can do this!” My husband laughed and shook his head but with my rubber worms in hand, we headed out to the lake. Step two involved learning how to cast. The better the cast, the more chance of success…or so I was told. My husband happily shifted into teaching mode and explained the finer art of casting. It's definitely not as easy as it looks. It took technique and focus but equally important was knowing where to cast. After several attempts, I made a successful cast. Now the hard part…the waiting! It was during the waiting that I heard the story of “the big one that got away.” Apparently there was a large mouth bass that was bigger than the rest. He was the Grandpappy of the lake and many had tried and failed to conquer him. I don't remember if it was this first fishing trip or the next but all I know is the fish were biting and I started reeling them in with my black rubber worms. Once again, God was in control. We had been out there a little while so it would soon be time to call it a day. Suddenly there was a tug on my line. It didn't feel the same as the others. This was a big one. He gave me quite a fight and I was screaming my head off while my husband grabbed a net. As I reeled in my catch, we could hardly believe it. I had caught the Grandpappy with a rubber worm! Needless-to-say, I gloated after the shock wore off. One other thing I learned with casting my line was the importance of adding a weight near the hook. The weight enables the hook to sink below the surface enabling the success of the catch. It's the same when we cast our cares on the Lord. It's about giving him not only the situation, but the weight of it that we are not meant to carry. He says it in His Word: Psalms 55:22 NIV Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. Today I found myself casting and recasting. Some things are harder to let go of than others, but as I kept giving it to him, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders My prayer went something like this. “Lord, I need You to help me. This is a big one. It runs deep. I don't want to hold onto it and I'm casting it on you.” Even though the situation didn't change, it felt different. There was peace in the waiting. One last thing…the next time we went to the bait shop, guess who bought some black rubber worms?