The Slack Line

Psalm 127:1-2

Frank had been working a hectic schedule. The running joke at his company was that you only had to work half a day. There are 24 hours in a day, and you get to choose which half to work. Frank believed that if he were the first to arrive at the office and worked harder than anyone else, he would ultimately move up the career ladder and succeed. Besides being a hard worker, Frank was a perfectionist. More than once, he told his direct reports, if something is worth doing, it is worth doing right.

Frank carried that habit into his fly fishing as well. His casts needed to be perfect loops, his drifts needed to be long, and his fly selection had to be spot on. Frank believed that if he perfected his fly fishing skills and outcast others, he would find the “peace of mind” he sought and catch more trophy fish.

Frank arrived at the stream at dawn. The sun was rising over the tree line, casting shafts of golden light on the water and giving the stream an otherworldly glow. It reminded Frank of how the light would stream through stained glass in a cathedral, like holy fire that eliminated darkness wherever it touched.

Frank had gotten up at 4:00 am to get ready. His eyes and mind were tired from long hours of work. When he reached the water, he obsessed over choosing the right fly and tying it to the tippet with the right knot. Frank was confident his careful preparation and dedication would lead to a successful day on the water.

By the time the golden hour of sunrise had passed, Frank had already spent a few hours casting and changing flies every 5 minutes, searching for the right combination that would lead to a hookup. He toiled anxiously and was technically perfect, but the stream refused to give up its bounty, and Frank had yet to have his first strike of the day.

He was trying to create the “perfect” day through sheer force of will, but it wasn’t working. At midday, Frank attempted to cast into a very tight spot where a tree branch cast a deep shadow and the water was fed by almost imperceptible ripples.

Instead of hitting his target, Frank hooked the branch and ended up losing one of his favorite flies. In a moment of silent rage, Frank decided to take a break and sat on a log by the bank a few feet from the stream. He felt defeated and rested his rod against the log while reviewing the morning’s events.

Frank closed his eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of the water. He let his mind simply respond to what he heard. Frank thought to himself, I did everything right, but the Lord must have decided today is just not my day.

When Frank opened his eyes from his quiet reverie, he noticed a slight rise in a small pool right at his feet—a spot he had overlooked because he was too busy trying to cast sixty feet across the water.

Frank picked up his rod. While still seated, he made a smooth, gentle cast to the spot where the water rings were fading away.

A beautiful trout slurped up his Parachute Adams. Frank raised the tip of the rod, and the dance began in earnest. Frank brought the fish to hand and then gently released it. He admired the colors and strength of the trout as it quickly scurried away from the point of encounter.

Frank packed up his gear and headed back to his car. His mind was trying to understand what had just happened. He had worked hard all morning without any luck. However, when he wasn’t really trying, he finally succeeded. It finally dawned on Frank.

Success isn’t about constant effort. It’s about working in harmony with nature. When he stopped trying to dominate the water and accepted that the stream, the trout, and every breath he takes are gifts he hasn’t earned, Frank was able to enjoy God’s grace.

Frank finally realized he needed to shift his work mindset from focusing solely on the end goal, like landing the next big promotion, to enjoying the process. He decided to improve his ability to be actively present, stop rushing through meetings, and become more aware of his colleagues’ needs.

Realizing that each day is a gift, Frank decided to enhance his leadership. Through prayer and renewed dedication, he shifted his focus to genuine servant leadership—pledging to better support his teammates while finally caring for himself.