FATC Days of Christmas (Day 16)…The River of Grace

FATC Days of Christmas (Day 16)… The River of Grace

Remember…Our FATC motto —It’s not just about the fly fishing. Well, it’s the Christmas season and I have a gift for my FATC brothers. Who knows…for some it may be just the gift they need, but didn’t realize it.

I’ve recently enjoyed reading Daniel Bryant’s book, GOD MUST BE A FLY FISHER, and I think many of you will enjoy it also. I’m reprinting a short chapter each day from now through New Year’s Day. This is not just a book about fly fishing. It’s a book about slowing down. It’s a book about seeing that every moment outdoors might be an invitation to come closer to the One who created it all.

(From God Must Be A Fly Fisher by author Daniel Bryant)

The River of Grace

There’s a moment on the river when the fish rises unexpectedly, your fly vanishes in a swirl, and—somehow— you set the hook too early, too late, or not at all.

You blew it.

And if you’re like most of us, your first reaction is frustration. You mutter. You sigh. You glance around to see it anyone saw it. But then… the water calms, the sun keeps shining, and the fish? It might rise again.

And that’s grace.

We mess up the cast. We fish the wrong fly. We drift too fast.

We fall in. We lose the biggest trout of the day. And still—the river flows. The invitation to try again remains. The water doesn’t hold grudges.

And neither does God.

“The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.” (Psalm 103:8,10)

That’s the heart of mercy and grace.

Mercy: Not receiving the punishment, we deserve.

Grace: Receiving the blessing we never earned.

We see both when Jesus bends down to the woman caught in adultery. Everyone else is holding rocks. He’s writing in the dirt. They saw her sin—He saw her soul. Mercy said, “Neither do I condemn you.” Grace said, “Go now and leave your life of sin.” (John 8:11)

He forgave her. Then He invited her to walk differently.

Fly fishing teaches us this rhythm. We come to the river with our mistakes, our tangles, our impatience. And every day, the water starts fresh. The past isn’t held against us. The river doesn’t punish—it teaches. It corrects. It restores.

So does God.

We tend to believe grace is for the beginning of the Christian life—a kind of welcome mat to faith. But grace is not just the first cast. It’s the whole day on the water. It’s in every breath, every step, every second chance. It’s what allows us to fail forward. To try again. To cast again. To believe again.

And mercy? Mercy is the reason we’re not crushed by the weight of all the times we got it wrong.

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning…” (Lamentations 3:22-23)

Every morning.

Every sunrise on the river.

Every empty net.

Every undeserved rise.

New mercy.

When Peter denied Jesus three times, he expected shame. But after the resurrection, Jesus didn’t rebuke him. He met him on the shore—with a fire, a meal, and a simple question:

“Do you love Me?”

Grace doesn’t just forgive your past—it calls you into your future.

That’s the kind of God we serve. Not a harsh judge waiting for you to blow it, but a loving Father calling you back to the river every time you stray.

“Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters…” (Isaiah 55:1)

So, come.

With your broken rod.

With your tangled line.

With your regrets and your restlessness.

Wade in.

Let mercy wash over your wounds.

Let grace guide your next step.

Because God doesn’t ask you to be perfect—just willing. And the river of His love is wide enough for all who enter.