What Stayed With Me

Random thoughts on fathers, fishing, friendship, and faith.

Welcome back to The Grati-Dude Diaries.

Before we jump into this week’s reflection, I wanted to take a moment to say thank you. What started as a simple writing experiment has now grown to nearly 290 subscribers across 36 states and 22 countries.

That still blows my mind.

Whether you’ve been here since Day 1 or just recently joined the journey, thank you for reading, reflecting, and sharing these thoughts with others. I’m grateful for each of you.

Now, on to this week’s random thoughts...

Random Thoughts Edition

I have a lot of random thoughts bouncing around in my head this week, so instead of trying to force them into a single theme, I thought I would simply share them.

Father’s Day

This is my first Father’s Day without my dad.

I still feel a little numb when I type that sentence.

I know everyone processes grief differently, and I’m not sure I’ve taken the time or the steps needed to fully process my feelings about my dad’s passing. Some days I feel close to him. Other days he feels far away.

This week was one where he felt really close.

The Gift of Being a Dad

One of the reasons I felt so close to my dad this week was because of an experience I shared with Lila.

Our family went to the Forrest Frank concert on Tuesday, and to say it was special would be an understatement. I surprised Lacey and Lila with tickets at Christmas, and we’ve been counting down the days ever since.

The opportunity to worship together as a family in that environment is something I’ll never forget. Throughout the night, I kept peeking over at Lila, and it was one of those moments that made me so grateful to be her dad. She was beaming from ear to ear.

The only other time I remember seeing that kind of joy was when we took her to Disney when she was five years old.

As a dad, there is no better feeling than creating moments of awe for your child.

My parents did the same for me, and I consider it one of the greatest gifts of fatherhood to now share those kinds of moments with her.

Saying Yes

During our Outreach Team meeting this week, we spent some time sharing stories about a friend who passed away a few weeks ago.

As people reflected on his life, I was struck by how many stories came from people who hadn’t known him all that long.

They talked about his kindness, his generosity, and the way he made people feel seen and valued.

At one point, someone mentioned that the only reason she had gotten to know him at all was because she had said yes when she was invited to join the Outreach Team.

It was a simple reminder of what happens when we say yes.

We rarely know where those decisions will lead or whose lives will become intertwined with ours because of them. A committee meeting. A volunteer opportunity. A new class. A conversation with a stranger.

Most of the meaningful relationships in my life didn’t come from some grand plan. They came from small moments when I simply said yes to something I wasn’t expecting.

You never know whose path you’ll cross because of a simple yes.

The Big Rock

I went to the Big Rock fishing tournament in Morehead City, North Carolina, last week.

We stood on the dock as boat after boat came to shore carrying giant fish that were weighed in front of the crowd. The energy on that dock was something special. We had so much fun watching the boats come and go throughout the day.

It struck me how many incredible traditions and events happen all over the country that most of us never even know exist.

If I had stayed in Texas, chances are I would have never heard of the Big Rock tournament. But here in North Carolina, it’s a way of life.

The winner this year reeled in a 919-pound marlin.

That’s not a typo.

The catch earned the team a little over $6.5 million.

Also not a typo.

Catch and Release

After the Big Rock tournament, we decided to do some fishing of our own.

Lila caught one on her very first cast.

Another proud dad moment.

It wasn’t exactly a 919-pound marlin, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Watching all those fish come onto the dock earlier in the week got me thinking.

I’ve spent a lot of time lately reflecting on the power of surrender and open hands. Like the rich fool we looked at last week, the things that pull us away from Jesus aren’t always obvious. Sometimes they slowly creep into our lives and take up residence before we ever stop long enough to notice.

The fishermen at Big Rock were trying to fill their boats.

But what if my spiritual life requires the opposite?

What if the goal is to notice what I’ve hooked and release it before it fills the boat?

I know the metaphor has its flaws. I happen to enjoy eating fish, so throwing them back feels wrong.

But the image stayed with me.

Maybe that’s why daily prayer and scripture matter so much. They help us notice what we’ve been carrying before it takes over. They give us the chance to release it and return to Jesus with open hands.

Because the truth is, drift happens.

The world is constantly offering us things to chase, collect, store, compare, and worry about.

The question isn’t whether we’ll hook those things from time to time.

The question is whether we’ll hold on to them.

Or release them.

Maybe the spiritual life is one long practice of catch and release.

Not because the fish aren’t real.

But because Jesus is better.

Grateful for you,

Jason (The Grati-Dude)