The Dock

Rick Cager was an ordinary guy... Fisherman, rather. Not the kind that would go off on boats into the Atlantic, but the kind who would stand contentedly at the end of a dock behind his house and fish on the quiet waters of Lake Geneva. With a wife and three nearly grown kids, the recently retired engineer figured he had life all figured out. Occasionally he'd ply his "trade", fishing in a flat bottomed boat with a small, gas Johnson purring behind him. But on most, you'd find him on the dilapidated dock behind his house.

All was rather ordinary, mediocre. A normal life, supposedly.

Until the day he met Jesse.

The man had seemingly come out of nowhere and at a low time in Cager's life. Jesse had befriended him, helped him. Rescued him, even. Why, Cager could now see that life with this new friend Jesse was life indeed!

So it was, on a crisp March day that things would radically change. Cager had forgone his boat and settled on fishing off the dock behind his house. The dock was a quiet place. Perfect for escaping the pressures of life. Perfect for quiet reflections and long talks with Jesse. But at five minutes after nine, by Cager's shiny chronograph watch, his normal routine was suddenly shattered.

Yelling, shouting, whooping - they all materialized in a blur of sleek ski boatage. Startled from his quiet reflections, Cager looked up and noted wryly that the six passenger boat was actually carrying closer to nine teenagers, but that obviously wasn't stopping this group from having a good time.

"Kids," Cager muttered under his breath.

"Souls," Jesse offered simply.

"Souls?" Cager was caught off guard. He'd never thought of them that way.

"Weren't you young once?" Jesse asked, leaning on the wooden rail.

"Well, sure, but I, uh..." Cager wasn't sure he even wanted to visit this line of thought.

"You'd feel a whole lot different if you were praying for them..."

"PRAYING for them?" Cager hadn't meant for that to sound so hostile... but he didn't have time to be praying for teenagers. He barely had time to do the things that he wanted to do. And he told Jesse that in no uncertain terms.

Jesse looked at him seriously, and then repeated in a calm and measured tone: "Pray for them."

Cager coughed, dismissing the idea. With a flick of his wrist he cast his line out into the water again.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Saturday morning. A pinkish sunrise kissed the sky. The same dock. Jesse was waiting as Cager stumbled across the damp, mildew-laced boards.

"Good morning, Jesse."

Jesse nodded solemnly.

Cager expertly baited his hook and cast it into the water.

"You have time now," Jesse offered.

Cager was caught off guard. "Huh?"

"You have time now."

"Time for what?"

"Time for prayer." He paused. "Pray for them."

"Wha...?" Cager's mouth dropped open. "You're going to bring that up again?"

Jesse looked hurt, but said nothing more.

Time, Cager asked himself. Where do I have the time to pray for teens? And how many were there? A lot. How could Jesse insist on such an unreasonable request?

He stared at the water. No fish. No bites. Not even a nibble. Cager reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small New Testament. It was something he did when times were quiet, to read and somehow try and glean some new perspectives from God. Although lately, most of what he read didn't seem very applicable to his life. Where should he start?

"Ephesians 6:18" Jesse interrupted.

"Do you mind?" Cager said impatiently. "I'm trying to read here."

Jesse looked at him intently, his head cocked to one side.

Why had Jesse suggested that verse? Maybe he should look it up. Cager thumbed through the crisp pages. Some were still stuck together, and for some reason that bothered him -- deep in his soul, that really bothered him. The sixth chapter of Ephesians was stuck between pages, and Cager pinched at the paper, hearing a soft tearing noise as they separated for the first time. He read it aloud.

"And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints..."

"Hmmph," Cager grunted. "That can't possibly apply to me..."

When Cager looked up, Jesse was gone. He saw footprints in the dew, and for a moment he wondered where his friend had headed off in such a hurry.

"Pray for them," Cager muttered aloud, looking at the trees along his property. "Where would I find the time, God?"

A flick of his wrist and another baited hook sailed through the air.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sunday morning. Early. Not much of a sunrise today; an overcast sky. He heard it before he saw it. The sleek boat was back, drawing closer. Cager reeled his line in quick to avoid having it snagged away by the approaching craft. As it rounded the peninsula of land off to Cager's right, the engine cut abruptly. The boat's nose dropped down, a wake of water rushing outward in a foamy froth. Cager noted that there was only one teen in the boat, a young man with dirty blonde hair nearly to his eyes. He wore a dark green shirt with cut-off jean shorts.

The sudden prayer surprised him and Cager found himself saying words that he thought he didn't have: "Lord, help this boy get his boat started again."

Now where had THAT come from?

The powerless boat floated closer, edging toward Cager's dock. Cager heard the boy try to engage the starter again and again, his head down, looking at the console. Putting his fishing pole down Cager moved to where the boat threatened to collide with his dock. It was coming fast. The starter continued to grind.

"Hey!" Cager yelled. "You're going to hit!"

"What?" The boy looked up then.

Though Cager tried to slow it, the boat solidly struck the dock shaking the timbers and driving two boards loose. A third bent upward, splintered, then cracked from the pressure. It fell with a splash into the water below. In a flash the youngster leapt from the boat a yellow tow line in his hand. Side by side the two stopped the boat's continued movement.

"Whoa, man. Sorry about the dock."

Cager eyed the damage. It hadn't taken much to shake up the old structure. He should be mad. Fighting mad. This gangly teen had just rammed his dock! Yet --

The boy wiped his hair back over his head in a quick motion. "Man, I'm sorry 'bout your dock. I'll help you fix it," he said, his hair falling back to the tops of his eyes.

Cager looked carefully at this boy. The boy's green eyes held his. Cager saw that his offer of help was sincere. And that did something. Something shifted in Cager's heart. Don't just stand there, introduce yourself.

Cager stuck out his hand. "My name's Rick. Rick Cager."

Cager's hand was gripped hard. "Tim Procter."

"Hi, Tim."

"You know anything about boat engines?" the youth asked.

"A little."

It didn't take Cager long to discover the shutoff valve on the gas tank. The engine coughed to life again.

"Sure thought I turned that on," Tim offered, a little embarrassed.

"It's easy to do. Happens to me too." Why was he letting this teen off so easy? He should be riding him for his in competency and disregard for quiet lakes and dock owners everywhere.

Tim jumped aboard the boat while Cager tossed the line and pushed the boat away from the dock. Cager had to be careful to avoid stepping into the new gap beneath his feet. From the console Tim yelled, "Sorry again about the dock. I'll be back later to fix it."

Eyeing the damaged wood Cager mentally prepared his after-church shopping list of wood and nails. Then he waved, and wondered whether he'd ever see Tim Procter again.

God, work in this young man's life.

There it was again. Why had he just prayed that? Why did he even care? Who was bringing such petitions to his heart?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cager pulled the three six-foot lengths of pressure treated lumber from the back of his pickup truck and hefted them to his shoulder. In his left hand he carried a 2-lb box of nails bought fresh from the local Lowes hardware store. Rounding the side of his house, he headed down past his back porch, spotting Jesse heading up the slope straight toward him.

"You're going to love this," Jesse said with a slight grin.

Cager stopped in mid-stride. He saw what Jesse was indicating.

The dock had been repaired. Completely.

"No use carrying that stuff down there. The kids did a great job."

"Kids?" Cager asked, laying the lumber and nails down.

"Uh huh. Two girls. Two guys."

Walking to the dock, the extent of the repairs was obvious now. Not only had the broken wood been fixed, but a large area of rotten wood - where he normally stood when fishing - had been replaced.

"You saw them do all this?" Cager asked, surprised at the level of workmanship demonstrated.

"I see more than you think I do," Jesse responded.

These youngsters had surprised him. Really surprised him. Fishing seemed sweeter later that afternoon. As Cager watched the sun set behind the tall oaks on the far side of the lake, he found his heart moved again.

"Lord, work in Tim's life. Work in these teens lives... all four of them, God." He stopped and looked again at the repaired dock. "These young people surprised me, God. Bless them for the good they have done here."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"How may I help you?" the Lowes store clerk asked.

Cager stepped up to the service counter pulling a shopping cart behind him. The young blonde girl across the counter seemed vaguely familiar. He noted that her name badge read JESSICA.

"Hi," he said, fumbling with his receipt. "I'd like to return these."

Jessica eyed the contents of the cart then marked through each item with a green highlighter pen. She bit the end of the pen for a moment then scanned a bar code on each of the pieces of lumber. Cager reached down and brought up the box of nails. She scanned it. The register began to slowly print a slip of paper.

Cager felt suddenly awkward in the silence. Why was that? He didn't need to say anything. This girl was doing a fine job with the transaction. Don't say anything. Stay quiet. There's nothing that needs to be said...

"Didn't need the lumber anymore," he heard himself say. WHY had he said that?

Her eyes momentarily flicked to his.

"I was going to repair my dock yesterday, but I found it fixed by some kids in my neighborhood. Imagine that."

Jessica ripped the receipt and placed it on the counter. "Sign here," she explained.

As Cager took the offered pen, he caught her looking at him curiously, a slight - ever so slight - smirk at one edge of her mouth.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" she inquired professionally.

"Uh..." Cager noted her blue eyes. Amazing to think that his daughter had been this young once. "Uh... no. That'll do it."

Jessica motioned for the next customer, then caught Cager's gaze playfully as he moved away.

Standing near the How-To books, Cager's wife, Ellie, gave him a quizzical look. "You okay?"

"I... uh, yeah." He looked back over at the young girl. "I'm trying to figure out where I've seen her before."

Ellie gave the girl a quick scan. "I don't recognize her. Maybe from church?"

"Yeah. Maybe," he said, but inwardly, he questioned that connection.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The new day's dawn blazed across the eastern sky with only the occasional quack of distant ducks to disturb the stillness. Cager cast his line into the water and reeled it in slowly, the misty air enveloping him in softness. Whispered and fragile prayers began to come, unrehearsed, from the slowly melting heart within.

"Guide these young souls, Lord. Tim. Yes, for Tim, grow him up to know You. Move his heart to know You."

Cager looked down at the fresh wood below him and felt a catch pull at his throat.

"And the hands... the hands that fixed my dock. God -- pour Your Spirit into these lives..."

The sound of an outboard echoed across the still waters. Cager looked up in time to see the glint from the windshield of Tim's boat flash back at him. Even from this distance, Cager could see that Tim wasn't alone. He reeled in his line and smiled as the boat slowed and drew closer, the engine finally cutting off as Tim waved and grinned from his standing position behind the wheel. The other three teens -- two girls and one boy, also smiled widely. Cager couldn't help but grin back.

"Hey, Fisherman!" one of the girl's called, laughing. "Nice dock!"

Cager stomped his foot. "Still feels solid," he yelled back. Then, putting down his fishing rod he caught the thrown yellow rope. "You guys are up early," he remarked, looping the rope around a piling.

Tim yelled out, "You do it so much - all that fishing. We're gonna try fishing too, Mr. Cager."

Cager was immediately struck with the realization that this boy had remembered his name. Wow.

"...I'd like you to meet some of my friends. This is Todd --" a dark haired boy nodded and gave a short wave. "And that's Judy..."

"Hey, Mr. Cager," Judy called. She wore a red t-shirt with Hollinger emblazed across it.

"And finally," Tim said with a flourish, as the boat bumped against the dock. "This is Jessica."

Jessica gave Cager a knowing look as she tipped a yellow ball cap with one hand. And in that moment it clicked. He recognized her. Jessica worked at Lowes. He almost laughed to himself, but suddenly it became very important to him that he quietly and quickly memorize these names. He made the mental note that both boy's names started with "T", the two girls, "J". That helps, Lord. Tim and Todd. Judy and Jessica.

They were looking at him curiously and he suddenly felt self conscious. He fired a quick question: "Are you the one's responsible for fixing my dock?"

"Give me a hammer," Judy called out, "and I'm a dangerous woman!"

The group chuckled.

Cager looked at each teen and felt the tension drop. "You guys did an outstanding job."

"When my Dad used to live with us he'd show me how to build stuff with wood," Tim offered. "We even had a lathe."

Cager felt a stab of pain with two of Tim's words: used to. Did Tim's Dad desert him? Was he no longer alive?

"You sure fish a lot," Todd remarked. "I was never any good at it. Hooks always come off."

Judy laughed. "That's because you're supposed to tie the string on them," she quipped.

Amid good natured laughter Todd called back, "But they still come off."

"Which knot are you using? A Slip knot? Bimini knot? Maybe an old timer's knot?" Cager asked.

Todd gave a puzzled look.

Judy again: "He uses shoestring knots!"

More laughter.

Cager pulled up a boxed crate and sat down. "There are all kinds of fishing knots... I'll show you if you like."

Todd looked hesitant only for a moment, looking from friend to friend. "S...sure. That'd be great."

"Fishing lessons with Mr. Cager," Judy called as she stepped onto the deck. "I'm digging this."

Patiently, and with all eyes on him, Cager carefully explained knots, lures, bait. With an ease that surprised him, his years of fishing experience flowed forth. Each teen listened with careful attention; Jessica patiently duplicated his knot techniques from her spot in the boat. Cager couldn't remember the last time someone had given him such consideration and respect. These kids weren't at all what he had expected. Had he really been this young? He felt so out of touch... yet... somehow there was a connection.

Was God doing this?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Over the next weeks, their visits continued. Slowly, Cager got to know each. Tim's Dad had left three years previously, and he rarely heard from him. Jessica's parents had divorced when she was ten, and there was still much animosity between the two. Todd's parents spent most of their time in the corporate world. "Latch-key" kid described him perfectly. Judy never spoke of her parents, but from the scars on her arms, Cager wondered if she struggled with a poor self image. He suspected that she was cutting herself and that led to many intense moments where Ellie and he would plead that God would rescue her from such a dangerous practice.

Weeks turned into a month, and Cager's circle of young friends continued to stop by and say hello. He continued to pray and answer their questions about fishing, about life... about God. Now, as Cager looked over the scriptures, twilight fell on the lake in a splash of red and orange hues. It was beautiful.

"You're doing well, Rick."

Jesse's words startled him. Cager looked up from the scriptures he was meditating over. Two photographs slipped from between the Bible's pages clicking onto the dock.

"Hey, Jesse, good to see you!" Cager called excitedly. "These verses are making more sense." Jesse retrieved the photos. One showed a smiling Todd, the other a grinning Judy. Both were displaying the results of a recent fishing trip: a 3-lb bass and 9 inch whiting respectfully. "And they're catching fish, Jessie. On their own!"

Jesse looked from the photos to Cager and smiled. After a moment he quietly intoned, "Love God with all of your heart, Rick. Seek after Him and remain faithful to His call. He will never leave you. Do you believe that?"

"Uhh - yeah." Cager looked back at the verses before him. "You mention call... How do I know what my call is...?" Cager looked back up, his mouth falling open. Jesse was gone. How did he manage to vanish so quickly?

"HEY!" the word was angry, demanding, and coming from the neighbor to his left. Cager looked over and saw two eyes peering over the top of the wooden fence separating the two properties. He didn't know the guy's name, only that he always wore a baseball cap backwards and had two pre-schooled children. "Get over here!" the neighbor demanded.

Cager stood from his spot on the dock and pocketed his Bible. Why the hostility from this guy? As he neared the fence he noticed ball cap guy's clenched fingers along the fence's wooden edge, the fingernails were blunt and dirty.

"You're the one who's been hanging around with those lousy teenagers, right?"

The question caught Cager completely off guard. The words felt like a kick to the stomach. Lousy? Lousy teens? How dare he...

Without waiting for a response, ball cap guy pressed on. "They tear up and down this lake like it's their own personal Sea World or something. And then I see them coming over to your dock all the time. And those two hot babes, know what I'd like to do with them? Why if I had the chance I'd like to---"

Cager never let him finish. An indignation rose inside of him, raging to the surface like a bottle rocket's sudden flight. "STOP!" he yelled putting his hand out into the face of this vulgar neighbor. "These young people fixed my dock..."

"After they wrecked it in the first place, right?"

"An accident... and they HAVE curtailed their speeding. And I CAN speak to them again about it..."

"Whoa!" ball cap mocked. Then he swore. "Struck a chord there, huh, buddy?"

Cager bit down on his teeth. This guy was rattling him. Deep breath, Cager. Deep breath. "And for the record - since you seem to be keeping track - I've been teaching them how to fish."

Cager expected that to quiet him, but ball cap guy only smirked. "Oh really? You actually think that teenagers are capable of productive work? HA!"

And with that, ball cap guy strolled away toward a dilapidated lawn mower.

Cager's anger subsided slightly. Still, he began to dwell on what this stranger had just said. And like the first chills of winter, a deep fear began to slink into his mind. What was he doing talking with these young people? Someone his age didn't talk to young people. What good was he possibly accomplishing? Maybe he should get out of their lives go back to his solitary existence.

They are catching fish on their own.

Wow. His own words came back in his mind. He'd taught them that hadn't he? Yes. With God's help and guidance he had taught them that.

In the fading light Cager walked back to his dock an unsettled feeling descending on him. There was no denying this fear that was beginning to grip him. It swirled through his mind like a poison. What did others think of him? What did they think of his involvement with these teens? His joy fled away the more he dwelt on it. A ravaging accuser began to prowl his mind, leaving him feeling worthless.... and his imagination began to feed the fear. Negative images poured over him, devouring him.

Fear. Fear held him in its jaws.

"Help me, God," Cager called out over the still waters. Fifty feet out a bass jumped creating a splash. He watched the circular ripples his heart reaching out to Heaven. The words - life-giving words -- came instantly to mind.

God will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus.

Oh!

Those words. Life giving. Were they from Galatians? Maybe Phillipians? Either way the words were life. The words were God's. He said them aloud again. "Guard my mind, Jesus. I'm lost without You. Rescue me from this fear."

And God did.

In one single moment, on a small wooden dock, on an ordinary night, fear fled in the presence of God's amazing love and care.

As night fell, Cager spent the next hour crying out his thankfulness to God. In that time, God allowed Cager to remember all that He had accomplished. What a change God had wrought in him. What a change.

He decided then. With God, there was life.

He would go with God.

Follow Him.

Wherever He led.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ten Years Later

From a pew near the back of the church, Judy looked up and spotted Pastor Helms looking at his watch again. The service was late. Pastor Helms always liked punctuality. Today he wasn't getting it.

Judy looked down at the scars on her arms; the wedding ring on her finger. How long had it been since she'd cut herself? Years and years. Still, the marks remained. She was forgiven, both by God and herself. Still, the scars were an ugly reminder. The Fisherman had prayed for and encouraged her... and she'd changed so much. Swallowing back sudden emotion, she called across the pew. "Jessica, where's that husband of yours?"

"He'll be here," Jessica said, glancing around. "He and Todd needed to get something. You know they wouldn't miss this."

"But they are way late."

Judy was surprised that Pastor Helms waited as long as he did. The people assembled talked quietly among themselves in low murmurs. Looking at his watch once more, the Pastor walked to the podium and looked out at the people in attendance. He cleared his throat, then said, "Friends, family, loved ones. I apologize for the delay. We are here to remember the life of a special man..."

Judy heard the back doors bang open and she turned to see what had caused the interruption. Todd and Tim were pushing something through the doors. It looked like a wheelbarrow. A wheelbarrow?

"Pastor Helms," Tim yelled out to a chorus of turning heads. "I'm --- we're sorry for being late."

"We needed to get some things," Todd said.

From her place on the front pew, Ellie Cager stood up in her black dress. Tears were already running her mascara.

Judy had been right. Her husband, Tim, was pushing a wheelbarrow filled to near overflowing with golden and silver objects that sparkled, catching the overhead lights. One tumbled onto the floor and bumped into the back pew. She watched as a familiar figure, Jesse, bent down and quickly returned it to Tim. As Jesse stretched out his hand, Judy saw that it was a trophy... A fishing trophy. But that wasn't all. In the brief exchange she'd also seen Jesse's hands. Why had she never noticed --

"Mrs. Cager," Tim's words echoed throughout the sanctuary. He pushed the wheelbarrow up to the front. Ellie Cager sat down as Tim and Todd approached. "I'm sure that your husband knew about some of these..."

Ellie put her hand to her mouth to stifle a cry. "There's so many..."

"Yeah," Todd offered.

"Your husband taught us to fish, ma'am," Tim said. "We followed his example... and showed others... how to fish too."

Ellie began to cry openly. "He loved -- loves -- you guys so much." Her eyes searched toward the back, then found Judy and Jessica. "I... I wish there was some way to let him know of all you have accomplished..."

"I'll tell him."

Everyone turned to see who had spoken. Jesse stood up from his place in the back row. He was smiling, eyes sparkling. "I'll deliver the message immediately," he said, stretching out his hands.

And with that, Jesse vanished before their eyes.

Judy's mouth dropped open. She'd seen his hands clearly this time. There were scars. In both hands -- the hands of a carpenter, yet also the hands of a fisherman.

The Master Fisherman...

The Catcher of Souls...

The Ultimate Repairer and Restorer of docks, lives and hearts.

©2008 Ron Masters