I cast again and still no fish takes the fly. Water drips down the back of my neck underneath my raincoat. Grumbling, I pull it tighter and put the hood over my head. I cast again. Still nothing. And still, the people yell.

Seriously, do they not realize how annoying they are? I glance over at them and to my astonishment, they are pulling in fish after fish. What?! How is that happening?

I try to mind my own business and cast again. Nothing. I glance in the other direction to my husband who is also casting and not catching. Down from him, a guy hooks a Sockeye, but the fly is in the fin, not the mouth, so he lets it go.

I cast again. Nothing. Over and over and over. And still, the group of people holler and hoot, over and over and over. I’m getting madder and madder and madder.

I know how to fish for Sockeye Salmon with a flyrod. I’ve done it for years. I am not a novice. Sure, there is always room for improvement and I’m open to learning, but I know the basics and can catch a fish.

I have the right equipment. I have the right waders and boots. I have the right flies, weights, and technique. I have the right raincoat . . . wait, no on that one. The raincoat is definitely questionable. However, it would not prevent me from catching a fish.

Again, the people yell as one of them pulls another fish to shore. What is the deal? How are these obnoxious people catching so many fish when no one else is?

Irrational thoughts start running through my head. “They think I have no clue how to do this.” “They are laughing at me, the poor woman who has caught nothing.” “They think I’m an idiot.”

Then my thoughts turn a little darker to “I am an idiot,” and “I can’t do anything right.”

I cast again. Nothing except for more celebrations from the loudmouths.

At this point, I am ready to quit and stomp off. As I contemplate whether to go back to the truck or not, I hear the Lord whisper to me. “Why are you so angry?”

“You have to ask? I’m mad because these people keep catching fish and I have not even had a nibble. They think I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to fish. They think they are better at this than I am.”

“Why do you care what they think?”

Ouch. That makes me stop and wonder. Why do I care what they think? Do I even KNOW what they are thinking? The truth is I have no clue what thoughts are going through their minds. And even if they are thinking everything I imagine, what does it matter?

The Lord gently reminds me of Galatians 1:10 (NIV), “Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

Oy, I realize all at once, the real reason I am mad is because I hate feeling inferior to others. I hate people thinking I am stupid. I want people’s approval.

But the Lord doesn’t want me (and you) to seek the approval of others. (Spoiler: we will never be able to gain everyone’s approval anyway.) He wants us to stay focused on Him. We already have his approval if we are his children. Yes, we still sin, and he will gently discipline us (as he is disciplining me at this moment), but I already have his approval and acceptance, and you do too if you’ve given your life to Jesus.

I confess my sin to him and ask him to help me keep my eyes on him alone. I don’t want to care what others think anymore. I want to enjoy the opportunities he gives me and not worry about the outcomes.

The rain keeps falling, I keep casting, and the people keep hollering. But as I glance at them again, I realize something I hadn’t noticed before. The people catching fish aren’t catching, they’re snagging fish. That means they aren’t getting the hook into the fish’s mouth; they are simply snagging the hook anywhere on the fish’s body and reeling them in. And keeping them. This is completely illegal. If they get caught, they could be fined a hefty amount.

Wow, here I am being jealous and feeling inferior when in reality, they are breaking the law. No wonder they’re getting so many fish. Hmmph.

My husband and I call it a day, neither one of us catching anything. We head to our truck and put up all our gear. Then we get some pizza and spend the rest of the afternoon thankful we don’t have to clean and process any fish in the rain. And I am thankful once again that my God loves me enough to correct me and get me back on the right path.