http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a1...OutThere-1.jpg
If there are none.....I don't want to go.
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http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a1...OutThere-1.jpg
If there are none.....I don't want to go.
I'm certain there are none in hell.........
i was just having this conversation with my priest! how funny!
spinner1,
I believe we are told in scripture that Heaven is going to be better than anything we can possibly imagine. I'm excited about that. My boss has a sign at work that reads; "Life is the time God gave you to determine where you want to spend eternity." Pretty simple choice the way I see it. I find myself trying to imagine a stream/river that makes me happier than the best I've ever fished. :razz:
In reading the scriptures I have no doubt that there will be trout streams, I do doubt that we will be fishing them.
Eric
Reading Revelation and will get back to you on this. Thought there was mention of it in there(well about rivers)
Rev 22:1-2
(John talking about what he saw in heaven):
1Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb 2down the middle of the great street of the city.
One river. Better get up early ;)
God made all the trout streams we'll ever see here on earth, and every other beautiful thing. The bible says heaven will be more beautiful than we can imagine. God made all the wonderful trout and all the other fishes. Oh, yes, there will be trout streams, and as Eric says, I doubt we will want to fish them. And, like Lotech said, God gave us life here to decide where we want to spend eternity... And as MNfisher assures.......There are certainly no trout streams in Hell...........I know where I want to go.......Modoc Dan
Must have dogs in heaven too! 8T :)
MNK,
What did your priest have to say on the subject?
Coughlin
I have told my wife that I want to be buried in my waders and to put a fly in my hand. I was kidding about the waders, but I want them to arrange my hand and put a good looking fly in my hands. It will give my friends a chuckle.
MNK
Jeez, did you point out that St. Peter was a fisherman, which hopefully gives us an edge if things look dicey? :)
Coughlin
Peter, Andrew, James and John
Appreciate this thread more than I can say.....thanks for sharing
hmmm... I don't know, but I do know one thing. I'm not going to sit around waiting to find out. :razz:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v3...isgaming12.jpg
I'm happy with the ones we have right here.
I thought i covered that question in my signature, guys!
My Dad passed away this evening in peace....not suffering in any way.....just after 8 pm.....I really do hope there are trout streams in Heaven.....and my Dad gets a chance to take up a fly rod up there.....we had talked about him learning to fly fish some time, especially out of his kayak.....I love you Dad.
Mike
There is a golden hatch happening on one right now!
I can see the bend in his rod..
Tight lines
Steve
Mike,
May the Good Lord bless and keep you. And, may He hold your father close.
God Bless,
Mike,
Condolences to you and your family. I just lost my Dad a couple of year ago and can still feel the pain. You will be in my prayers.
My Dad only used a flyrod once in his life but the yearling bass were eager and he had a ball, maybe they can go together soon.
God bless you.
Mike,
Our prayers are with you and the family.
Trout streams in heaven?
When I see my Saviour face-to-face and see the nail scars in His hands & feet, I don't think I will really care if there are trout streams in heaven.
All I will want to do is be with Jesus and talk with Him. He is my all-and-all.
Reminds me of a really old question... ((what is the meaning of life ?)) Such an easy answer that not many see it... To serve God and help others get to know him by our actions... And yep, I believe there is some streams or rivers in Heaven...
He's with Peter, Andrew, James and John fishing right now.
Mike, you and your family are included in my thoughts and prayers. I am very sorry to hear about the passing of your Dad. 8T
Truly sorry for your loss.
I have been there before.
DuFf
Thanks for all your prayers and thoughts....been hard on family and friends....but he is at peace....your kindness here is much appreciated
Mike
mike, i truly believe he is fishing as we speak. my prayers are with you and your family.
chris
http://i11.photobucket.com/albums/a1...reams/TC-1.jpg
My days fishing with my father are still fresh in my memories 41 years later.
Mike,
I have no doubt in my mind that there are streams in Heaven with some of the most beautiful trouts ... the likes of which we have never seen ... swimming merrily along. My Dad is probably showing him around right now.
I for one, am looking forward to it!
Betty
I thought I'd seen some nice spots, but where do you get these pictures... it looks like heaven to me!
All depends of your definition of Heaven, one person's Heaven, could be the next person's Hell. Case in point was best explained in a short story by G.E.M. Skues....
Mr. Theodore Castwell
By G. E. M. Skues
MR. THEODORE CASTWELL, having devoted a long, strenuous and not unenjoyable life to hunting to their doom innumerable salmon, trout, and grayling in many quarters of the globe, and having gained much credit among his fellows for his many ingenious improvements in rods, flies, and tackle employed for that end, in the fullness of time died and was taken to his own place.
St. Peter looked up from a draft balance sheet at the entry of the attendant angel.
"A gentleman giving the name of Castwell. Says he is a fisherman, your Holiness, and has 'Fly-Fishers' Club, London' on his card."
"Hm-hm," says St. Peter. "Fetch me the ledger with his account." St. Peter perused it.
"Hm-hm," said St. Peter. "Show him in."
Mr. Castwell entered cheerfully and offered a cordial right hand to St. Peter.
"As a brother of the angle?" he began.
"Hm-hm," said St. Peter. "I have been looking at your account from below."
"I am sure I shall not appeal to you in vain for special consideration in connection with the quarters to be assigned to me here."
"Hm-hm," said St. Peter.
"Well, I've seen worse accounts," said St. Peter. "What sort of quarters would you like?"
"Do you think you could manage something in the way of a country cottage of the Test Valley type, with modern conveniences and, say, three quarters of a mile of one of those pleasant chalk streams, clear as crystal, which proceed from out the throne, attached?"
"Why, yes," said St. Peter. "I think we can manage that for you. Then what about your gear? You must have left your fly rods and tackle down below. I see you prefer a light split cane of nine foot or so, with appropriate fittings. I will indent upon the Works Department for what you require, including a supply of flies. I think you will approve of our dresser's productions. Then you will want a keeper to attend you."
"Thanks awfully, your Holiness," said Mr. Castwell. "That will be first-rate. To tell you the truth, from the Revelations I read, I was inclined to fear that I might be just a teeny-weeny bit bored in heaven."
"In h-hm-hm," said St. Peter, checking himself.
It was not long before Mr. Castwell found himself alongside an enchantingly beautiful clear chalk stream, some fifteen yards wide, swarming with fine trout feeding greedily: and presently the attendant angel assigned to him had handed him the daintiest, most exquisite, light split-cane rod conceivable?perfectly balanced with the reel and line?with a beautifully damped tapered cast of incredible fineness and strength, and a box of flies of such marvelous tying as to be almost mistakable for the natural insects they were to simulate.
Mr. Castwell scooped up a natural fly from the water, matched it perfectly from the fly box, and knelt down to cast to a riser putting up just under a tussock ten yards or so above him. The fly lit like gossamer, six inches above the last ring; and next moment the rod was making the curve of beauty. Presently, after an exciting battle, the keeper netted out a beauty of about two and a half pounds.
"Heavens," cried Mr. Castwell. "This is something like."
"I am sure his Holiness will be pleased to hear it," said the keeper.
Mr. Castwell prepared to move upstream to the next riser when he noticed that another trout had taken up the position of that which he had just landed, and was rising. "Just look at that," he said, dropping instantaneously to his knee and drawing off some line. A moment later an accurate fly fell just above the neb of the fish, and instantly Mr. Castwell engaged in battle with another lusty fish. All went well, and presently the landing net received its two and a half pounds.
"A very pretty brace," said Mr. Castwell, preparing to move on to the next string of busy nebs which he had observed putting up around the bend. As he approached the tussock, however, he became aware that the place from which he had just extracted so satisfactory a brace was already occupied by another busy feeder.
"Well, I'm damned," said Mr. Castwell. "Do you see that?"
"Yes, sir," said the keeper.
The chance of extracting three successive trout from the same spot was too attractive to be forgone, and once more Mr. Castwell knelt down and delivered a perfect cast to the spot. Instantly it was accepted and battle was joined. All held, and presently a third gleaming trout joined his brethren in the creel.
Mr. Castwell turned joyfully to approach the next riser round the bend. Judge, however, his surprise to find that once more the pit beneath the tussock was occupied by a rising trout, apparently of much the same size as the others.
"Heavens," exclaimed Mr. Castwell. "Was there ever anything like it?"
"No, sir," said the keeper.
"Look here," said he to the keeper, "I think I really must give this chap a miss and pass on to the next."
"Sorry, it can't be done, sir. His Holiness would not like it."
"Well, if that's really so," said Mr. Castwell, and knelt rather reluctantly to his task.
Several hours later he was still casting to the same tussock.
"How long is this confounded rise going to last?" inquired Mr. Castwell. "I suppose it will stop soon."
"No, sir," said the keeper.
"What, isn't there a slack hour in the afternoon?"
"No afternoon, sir."
"What? Then what about the evening rise?"
"No evening rise, sir," said the keeper.
"Well, I shall knock off now. I must have had about thirty brace from that corner."
"Beg pardon, sir, but his Holiness would not like that."
"What?" said Mr. Castwell. "Mayn't I even stop at night?"
"No night here, sir," said the keeper.
"Then do you mean that I have got to go on catching these damned two-and-a-half pounders at this corner forever and ever?"
The keeper nodded.
"Hell!" said Mr. Castwell.
"Yes," said his keeper. ~ G.E.M.Skues
I lost my Dad too a few years ago, yes there was pain, but found I had many blessings come from it... Heaven is gonna be far beyound anything we can hope or imagiane in our earthly minds...
I can see something of it in this picture...
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v3...5-R1-02-3A.jpg
Look closely you can see the fly line from the backcast of my friend, and yes the fly landed nicely on the water...
Just a quick post (I know surprising from me LOL LOL)....but I wanted to thank all FAOLers who had sent their prayers and thoughts.....it's been tough past few weeks....but I have got out fishing several times and cleared my head (at least partially) when I have been out on the water....fishing is great therapy....and my Dad is never far away when I'm out on the water (he was more of a kayaker than an angler....last went kayaking three months before he passed)....any way, thanks again to fellow FAOLers
Tight Lines,
Mike
Mike,
I lost my dad in Sept. of '99. The following Spring I went fishing by myself at Silver Lake just about 20 minutes S/W of Spokane Wash. It's a lake the Dad and I had fished many times together when I was quite a bit younger. I was trolling leaded line, a Giant Cowbell flasher and an F7 Perch Scale Flatfish. That's the way we used to fish. About half way down the east side of the lake I hooked and landed the biggest Rainbow I ever caught at that lake. I then audibly (out loud) said, "How's that Dad?" I then heard his voice in my head (heart), crystal clear saying, "That's fine son. Do it again." So I turned around and started fishing back over the same place where I'd caught that fish. You guessed it, I hooked and landed a cookie cutter fish to the first one. Only this one was a Brown Trout. Then I said, "That's enough, I'm goin' home." Then I heard Dad (crystal clear again) and he said, "You done good." It's like he was in the boat with me the whole time. I was fishing with his gear.
If you can, take your dad's kayak out next Spring. It will be a very healing experience.
God Bless,
Mike,
May God be with you and your family through all of this. I lost my Dad in September, 5 years ago. I was with him when he drew his last breath. My Mom asked me if I was going to be OK and I told her that at that second, I felt better than I had felt in the past 3 weeks as I watched my Dad suffer before leaving us. He never went fishing. He always worked and helped others when they needed it. He seemed to enjoy that more than taking time for himself and hobbies. I, on the other hand, tried to go fishing as much as I could between working and helping others. I gather great enjoyment from helping others and fishing and try to balance both. As time goes on, your pain will be replaced with great memories and life will go on as it is suppose to.
Fishing the streams in Heaven will only be made sweeter by the presence of a Perfect Guide.