Fishing is My Hiding Place


Fishing is my hiding place,
Somewhere I go to escape.
When the trials within me don't let me go,
That is where you'll find me, with my pole.

This is where I go to think.
The fish calm me. I will not sink.
God's gift to me, the fisher of men.
He will pursue me to the end.

He will fight for me, my fears aside,
If I let Him, tide after tide.
Through calm waters or stormy wave,
From me, He will not stray.

The bait, the cast, the wait, the fight,
Oh the parallels to my life!
So much He shows me when I fish,
Like His patience, even when I wished…

For something more than what I see.
"I'm right here", He says to me.
Beyond the trees will my joy will be found?
"NO,” He says, without a sound.

Guiding my gaze and stirring my heart,
I’ve always heard Him best in the dark.
And though I may run like the fish I chase,
His sturdy hand will guide my pace.

But if I find the sun going down,
Yet bass jumping all around.
Pull up a seat or stand if you like.
I’ll be here until they bite.

Because fishing is my hiding place.
Somewhere I go to escape.
So if you need to look for me,
down by the water is where I’ll be.

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