04/08/2026
First Place Winner for Story Contest
God’s Fishing Hole
By Phil Jacobson
During my years as an executive with a manufacturing company, one of my favorite parts of the
day had nothing to do with production schedules or meetings. It was the early-morning
conversations I shared with Al, the night janitor, before he headed home.
We talked about our families, the outdoors and the various adventures that made up our lives.
Every so often, Al would bring a jar of jam he and his wife had canned. I came to treasure these
conversations – until one morning when he walked into my office with something else in mind.
“I think God wants me to tell you about my secret fishing hole so you and your son can go there,
and he wants you to use my family’s special lure,” Al informed me.
He pulled out a large, white bucktail lure and handed it to me. I asked Al how long the lure had
been in his family, and he replied, “Twenty years.”
My eyes widened. I told Al, “While I appreciate your generosity, I’ve lost enough lures over the
years to know I’m not risking losing a lure you’ve had in the family for 20 years.”
I added that I had a similar lure in my tackle box and would feel much more comfortable using
one I knew I could lose.
Al nodded, laughed and restated, “I really think God wants me to do this for you.”
Al went over the details of his fishing hole, explaining how he had targeted large northern pike
there for years. He also asked that I not share the location. I thanked him and expressed my
appreciation for his kindness.
A few days later, I called my college-age son and asked if he wanted to go fishing. He said he’d
love to go but his busy schedule wouldn’t allow it. I was disappointed but I understood and
decided to go alone the next day.
The lake was smooth as glass when I launched the boat. As I neared Al’s secret spot, I slowed
and dropped the trolling motor.
I tied on my white bucktail lure and smiled, thinking of Al’s big heart.
It only took a few casts.
A jolt shot through my rod, and the drag screamed as a heavy northern pike tore off on its first
run. After a spirited fight, I landed a thick fish just shy of 40 inches, snapped a quick photo, and
slipped it back into the lake. As it swam away, I rinsed my hands and said out loud, “Thanks, Al.”
The action didn’t stop with a few more nice pike making their way into my boat. I was enjoying
fishing in a picture-perfect setting.
Then I made a long cast near some emerging weeds.
Bang!
Another heavy strike. I set the hook and the fish made a strong sideways run, ripping line off my
reel. I worked the fish away from a few potential snags and could feel him beginning to tire. As I
got the fish to the boat, I could see this one was also a trophy. The fish saw the boat and made
another run for freedom.
I played the fish out and slowly got him to the boat. I landed him and took a quick picture,
knowing I needed to get him back in the water quickly after the strong fight.
It took a few minutes for the fish to recover. As I moved him back and forth to flush water over
his gills, I shook my head thinking of how Al related his motivation from God to share this
moment with me. Just then the hefty fish gave me a face full of water as he flipped his tail and
took off for deeper cover.
I grabbed my pole to resume fishing. Typically, there aren’t multiple pike in one spot, and
fishermen need to move around. However, for some reason, I decided to cast to the same spot
again.
Wham!
Another massive fish attacked my lure. My rod was nearly bending in half. I soon landed the
hefty fish and went through the process of releasing it to be caught again by someone else. My
lure was bent and twisted from the battles with the lake’s large predators. I straightened it out the
best I could and prepared to cast again.
“I wonder …,” I thought as I looked at the spot that had already produced two large northern
pike.
I flicked a few casts toward the same area and soon felt the now familiar tug as another large
northern pike hammered my lure.
“This is crazy,” I thought as I reeled in the fish.
I decided to drop the anchor, so I didn’t have to waste time maneuvering the boat back to the
honey hole after drifting during the fishing battles. I began catching big northerns one after
another.
I sent my son a string of pictures and texted the words: It’s a feeding frenzy!
He thought I was joking. “Are you sending pictures of the same fish?” he asked.
I kept sending him new pictures. I’ve fished in Canada and caught walleyes one after another,
but I’ve never had this happen with large northern pike.
One particularly heavy fish took longer to recover. As I leaned over the side of the boat gently
moving it back and forth in the water, a Bible story came to mind that I hadn’t thought about in
years:
“Jesus told the disciples, ‘Cast your net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.’
The disciples could barely haul in their catch because of the number of fish.”
I smiled at the thought as the pike eased back into the lake.
The action eventually slowed, and I headed back to the landing. It had been an incredible
experience, and I couldn’t wait to tell Al.
The next day Al stopped by my office. I told him my son was unable to join me but that I had
visited his secret spot. I shared pictures and thanked him for his kindness.
Al’s face broke into a large smile. He said, “I just really felt God wanted me to tell you about it.”
As a footnote, I’ve returned to our secret spot a few times since, but I’ve never been able to
replicate that incredible morning. Maybe it was the timing, the weather, the water level – or
maybe that’s just how God wanted it.
My wife has a small sign hanging in our home: “Life is a series of tiny miracles; notice them.”
Let’s just say I noticed this one – along with the reminder to make time for people, and to pay
attention when grace shows up in ordinary places.