Billy had just turned twelve and it would be his first time fishing all by himself. He stood at the edge of the water anxiously digging into his fishing bag to find just the right worm. The sun was just breaching the tree tops on the opposite side of the river and warming his cheeks as he readied himself for the first day of the new fishing season. “This one is perfect” he thought as he pulled a plump worm from his pouch.
The spinner shimmered in the sun as Billy struggled to slip the worm onto the hook. He was excited because every year on the first day he caught his limit of fish at this spot with this same spinner, only this time he was all on his own. As Billy finally got the worm onto the hook he dreamed that this would be the day he would catch a trophy fish so he could show his daddy that he had grown into a man.
The excitement of the moment thrilled him as he swiftly inhaled the crisp morning air, drew back the rod, and cast into the churning water. He began to reel in and within seconds a beautiful brook trout had latched onto the hook. Billy vibrated with adrenaline as he reeled in the first fish of the season.
The water was unusually low this year and food for the fish had been sparse so it was easy to understand why they would bite to quickly with such a void in their stomach. It wasn’t long before Billy had caught his limit, and he packed up his worms, fish, and his favorite spinner and headed up the hill to the house.
On his way back he began to wonder, why do those silly fish never learn that the worm was just a disguise for the hook that would ultimately be their end. He wondered if he were a fish, would he be dumb enough to fall for a flashy spinner and an oddly rigid worm. Years later he would figure out that, in a way, he was just like those fish.
As Billy grew up he would return to the water every year on the first day of fishing season with rod and reel in hand. He would dig out his favorite spinner and the best worm and cast until he reached his limit and then return home to enjoy the spoils of his fishing excursion.
It was just after Billy’s 25th birthday and it was once again the first day of fishing season. Billy’s father stood by the edge of the water with tears streaming down his face remembering the little boy who once stood there casting a rod without a care in the world. He remembered all the wonderful times they had shared, and how proud he was of Billy. He remembered his graduation and how excited he was when he got his acceptance letter to UCLA. He knelt down by the water and prayed for his little boy, begging God to reach into Billy’s world of drug abuse and pull him free.
Several years passed before Billy would be free of his addictions. It was a road wrought with fighting, rehab and relapses, but as he stood in front of his peers and counselors at the rehab facility he remembered all the times by the water and how he thought of those silly fish and gave the following speech.
“I used to wonder why those fish would never learn that the bait that looked so alluring was to be their downfall, until I fell into the same trap myself. The enemy never presented me with a barbed hook of sin, instead it was disguised with something flashy, something appealing and something to fill the void I was feeling in my heart. In the same way that the fish so often fell for my bait, I fell for that of the enemy. Just like the fish, I soon discovered that inside that life was a barbed hook that snagged me and refused to let me go. Sin, no matter what kind, is always disguised as something appealing and it always has hidden within it a snare, a barbed hook that the enemy intends to use to reel us closer and closer to him until we meet our downfall. Thank God that I have parents who pray. Thank God for his mercy and grace, if it were not for him I wouldn’t be standing here today.”
Sin finds its way into our lives because we are looking to fill a void. The enemy knows just how to dress it up so that it will look appealing and delicious, but we have to be careful because inside of each sin is a tiny hook that can not only seize us, but can leave us with scars and wounds as a consequence of taking hold of them.
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