Deer Down

I finally got it done!

So much has happened since I last wrote…but that gives me plenty of material to write about correct?

Kelly, my younger brother, called and suggested I come down for a morning hunt.  Understand that when he invites me down for a hunt it isn’t just an around the corner trip.  I’m an hour and a half away from our favorite hunting ground.  So, when he said 5:00 inwardly I groaned, but I agreed and scrambled to get my gear together.

3:15 rolls around and I do my best to roll out without waking the wife.  I’d already showered and packed my gear in the truck and set out my hunting clothes the night before.  I dressed quickly and headed out the door, not looking forward to the long drive.  Feeling tired and hungry I stop by Walmart and grab a G2 protein bar and two Low Cal Monsters and hit the road.

We met at the parking spot, chatted for a little while I strap on my climbing harness, get my tree stand on my back, and grab my bow.  We head out towards our perspective trees with him leading the way.  We get a few yards from the vehicles and he stops and turns around.  He puts his hand on my shoulder and bows his head.  He says a simple prayer, asking for a good hunt, whether that be fellowship or fare for the table, and that all be according to the will and the glory of God.  Amen, and we are on our way.

We’re hunting a bow only public property that is being leased for crops.  Not a bad idea as it gives the deer a steady source of vegetation as well as variety.  We know the lay of the land fairly well and our selected spots are within eyesight of the vehicles.

In order to get to where we are going we walk about 300 yards through a break in the trees, then hang a left and about 100 yards to my tree which faces a long sweeping field that is a little over 50 yards wide.  Kelly’s tree is across the field to another tree line and another couple hundred yards down.

We wave at each other and I climb through some foliage to the base of my tree.  Being in the brush, pre-dawn, trying to setup a climbing tree stand is sometimes an exercise in frustration.  I think back to the last time that I attempted to climb this tree and grimace.  My foot strap broke about 5′-0″ off the ground so I wound up hunting off the ground.  Not a performance I wanted to repeat.  Luckily everything went off without a hitch.

My spot is an interesting one.  My tree is almost too big for my stand so starting off the base is almost at a 45 degree angle, but the tree tapers very quickly into a manageable climb.  I have to get this just right.  If I climb too high I stand up into the canopy above for a shot, too low and I cannot see over the foliage between me and the field.

I got it right.

I sit in the chill of the December air waiting for shooting light.  I close my eyes then feel the vibration of the cell phone in my chest pocket.  I peel off a glove, fish it out and see that Kelly has text me.  Shooting light.  As I put the phone back in my pocket I notice that Mitzi has text me, “Good Luck!  I love you”

I attach my release to the D loop and settle.  I didn’t have long to wait.  I find myself staring at my broad heads.  One of my main concerns is a clean kill.  The broadhead I have selected is one that my Physical Therapist had given me.  He didn’t know what they were, knew that I had an archery ministry so passed them on to me.  I later discovered that they were Steelforce Sabertooths.

I heard something to my left and see brown.  It’s a doe, but she’s almost into the brush in front of me.  No shot.  Then I see two fawns walk scamper out into the middle of the field.  Followed by a doe.  I slowly stand up.

From his vantage point Kelly can see my tree and the deer.  He later tells me that he has been praying all morning that he be with me when I take my first deer.  The good Lord decided to answer his prayer.

Unaware of what Kelly is doing, I slowly raise my bow.  I figure I am about 30 yards out but being cautious I split the difference between the 20 and 30 yard pins and release my arrow.  I remember praying for a clean hit.

I watch the doe react to the impact.  The doe under me runs across the field, the fawns flee.  My intend target takes a hard left headed towards a break in the trees.  I watch the second doe as she gets to the treeline and pauses.  Nice lines, I’ve knocked another arrow and toy with the idea of taking another shot.  She decides it for me and disappears into the trees.

I breath and sit down.  I remember Kelly and text him “Deer down”.  Then I shake.  I lift my eyes to heaven and give thanks.  I bow my head, close my eyes, and listen.  I hear movement again.  I look up and the second doe is moving across the field again.  Nervous, unsure.  I remember thinking about taking the shot again but decide against it.

We give it another half hour and then climb down.  We meet in the middle of the field.  Kelly asks me where it was standing and I show him.  We immediately find the blood trail leading into the trees.  We follow the blood trail into the brush.  I recall Kelly asking me what kind of broad heads I was using and him saying they did their job well.  We find the deer beside a log so I grabbed it’s tail and pulled it out into the open.

I grimaced when I saw the wound.   It wasn’t as clean a hit as I wanted.  I spined it right at the hip and clipped a major artery.    It went about 20 yards and bled out quickly.  Then I noticed the buttons.  Not a doe, but a button buck.  Not what I wanted but what was provided.

We prayed a prayer of thanks and took the mandatory first deer pictures. Kelly demonstrated how to field dress a deer then went to his truck to get a deer cart he had just acquired while I use the TWRA app on my iPhone to check in my deer.  When he gets back we lifted the deer on to the cart and with a twinkle in his eyes he said “It’s yours haul it out!”

So I grabbed the handle and off I went.   Little did I know that he was taking pictures as I was pulling the cart through the field.  I still have them on my phone.

I was tired and looking forward to learning to butcher my deer.  I was also thankful.  Thankful for the bounty, but more thankful for the time that I spent with my brother.  It’s amazing the amount of fellowship two men can experience several hundred yards apart.

 

Purpose

For those of you that are following my post or have followed my post I apologize for not  writing in quite a while.  There is a perfectly good explanation I promise!  She’s about 5′-1″ tall, prettiest hazel eyes you ever saw and serves as my most honest critic.  I would often leave my posts up for her to read and we would talk about them when I got home from work.  The last several posts were, in her words, “rushed”  So, I took a hiatus.  Forgive my verboseness.

I titled this post purpose because I want to talk about purpose.  I’ve had jobs and a career  but was never content in what I did.  I’ve worked construction in many different forms, was a soldier, draftsman, and finally a project coordinator, all of which I did very well.  But I was miserable.  There was no joy in it for me.

In 2004 I found myself working for an OEM Auto parts manufacturer which is a very strange place for an architectural project manager to be, but they had a need for my services and I had a need for their money.   Eventually the man that hired me moved on and I inherited a new boss.  We did not care for one another and we both knew that eventually I would be let go but that he would have to manufacture a way to do so. During this time my wife and I had been working with young people at our church and I began to confess to her that I had always dreamed of being a teacher.  She was surprised but supportive, so I  began to pursue my Masters of Arts in Secondary Education.  I cannot remember working harder towards any one thing in my life, but I relished the challenge.

I did eventually lose the manufacturing job and found myself the unemployed father of 5 Master’s student scrambling to make ends meet working whatever construction jobs that I could scrounge up.  My wife never questioned our position and the good Lord kept a roof over out head and food in our mouths.  I remember finishing my last course work class and filling out the paperwork to do my student teaching portion of the degree…and waiting. The money ran out and my wife and I discussed it.  I found work with one of the world’s largest dollar stores in the corporate office.  The money was good but I hated the work.

Meanwhile my placement advisor is struggling to find me a school.  He called and told me that Sumner County said no the same day we applied and that Robertson County said no promises but they would look into it. So I worked and waited.  Then Wednesday arrived.  Phil, my placement advisor, sent me new paperwork to select two new districts.  I had been struggling with this and had all but come to the conclusion that God had closed the door on this portion of my life and that I should stay where I was.  I had composed an email to Phil and then decided to go to lunch before I sent it. I called my wife and we talked about what we should do.  She reminded me that God had brought us this far and that we should continue to trust him.  So we prayed and I went back to work.  I sat at my desk and an email popped up.  It was Phil and it was very criptic “I’m calling you”  I raised me eyebrow, looked at my phone and almost jumped out of my skin phone when it rang.

Phil was nearly breathless when I answered, “You’re not going to believe this!”  I shook my head and rolled my eyes as if he could see me and asked, “Believe what?”  My world spun when he said “Robertson County just came through!” I did some quick calculations and figure that since it was the end of January this school year was out, I could stay where i was save some money and start next school year…”Ok…when do I start?”  I nearly had to pick myself up off the floor when he responded “Monday”  I asked “Monday, when?”  He sounded exasperated “This coming Monday!”

This was a whole new set of problems!  I had to call my wife and discuss finances…again.  Then I had to go quit my job.  I had a meeting to attend with my cooperating teacher and field supervisor the next day.  So off to a running start and scrambling I embarked on the path of becoming a student teacher.  At 42 years old I embarked upon the career I had always dreamed of.   The thought shook me to my very core…me…a teacher.

When I started my cooperating teacher told me “Do not expect to get a job here.  People retire or die from this school”  By the time I left I had made some great friends and both the principal and cooperating teacher told me that if something came open they would give me a call.  Student teaching complete…all done.  We had enough money to get through to the start of the school year. I started filling out applications.  Towards the start of the school year I had applications in at 8 school districts across two states.  No calls.  Nothing.  My teacher friends told me to not be discouraged.  But I was looking at my dwindling checking account, shrinking larder, and saw little or no hope.

It was the end of July and graduation day had finally arrived.  My lovely bride and I were once again going to be walking down the aisle for the third time.  We graduated together in High School, our wedding, and now she had earned her bachelors degree the same time I earned my masters. Our families, as they often do, planned an intimate after affair party, at which I discovered that the prime rib that I ate was tainted and I received a good dose of food poisoning.  I was miserable.  My wife tended to me, feeding me sprite, crackers, and a wonderful does of phenergan.

I finally dosed off at about 6:00 in the morning only to be awakened at 9:00 by my phone shattering the silence. I let it ring figuring a bill collector who had of late become aware of my phone number at an alarming rate.  The phone fell silent.  Silence is good.  Then it chimed letting me know I had a voice mail.  I stirred up the strength to get out of bed and get my phone off the dresser that stood ominously across the room.  I fumbled my way through the menu’s and checked the message.  It was a number I didn’t know and the voice was unfamiliar, but the message he left made my heart soar.  It was a principal.  And he wanted to interview me.  Tomorrow.

The interview went well, so well in fact that I found myself waiting on a phone call the next day.  I woke up figuring on a 9:00 AM phone call.  10:00 rolled around.  1:00 rolled around.  2:30 arrived.  No phone call.  My wife gathered out kids and told me that they were going to the library that she couldn’t take me anymore. I paced, and paced, and paced.  4:25 rolled around and she text me, “Anything?”  I responded “No.  I don’t know how much more broken God needs me to be because right now I am shattered.  If I don’t hear back by 4:30 I’ll have my answer”  I hit send noting the time as 4:28.

I was about to slip my phone back in my pocket when it rang in my hand.  I figured it was my wife calling to console me and looked at the screen. It was him.  Oh Lord…I answered.  He greeted me and informed me that he had made a recommendation for the position.  Dead silence.  Recommendation…what did that mean?  Did I have it or not?  He broke the silence, “Congratulations! Welcome aboard! Now I know that I am hitting you with a lot of stuff but…”  I wrote down his directions and all the information that he gave me as my mind reeled.  We said our goodbyes and hung up.

I stared at my phone.  I knew I had to call my wife but could not make my fingers work, besides my blood sugar must have spiked or she forgot to dust because I couldn’t focus for some reason.  I will never forget the sound of her voice, and the hope, dread, anxiety, and concern in it as she said “Hello?”  In a barely audible voice I told her “I got it”  She didn’t hear me and had to ask, “what?”  I managed a little more composure, “Honey I got it!”  We shed tears of relief, and joy together. Since that time my life has been a whirl wind.  I have become a friend, mentor, socialologist, counselor, psychologist, bouncer, and coach.  When I was asked how could you be a teacher the only response that I had was how could I not?

I am finally living out the purpose that God intended me for, I pray everyday that with his help that I will be enough.

Cease Striving

Psalms 46:10 – “Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

Be still.  Watch for movement.  Still yourself.  Tune  in to your surroundings.  Remove everything from your mind other than the sounds around you.  Watch for movement.  Still your mind.  These are the thoughts that penetrate my brain when sitting in my deer stand.  So totally opposite from my walk with God.

Opposite?  Yes, opposite.  When I first came back into a relationship with God I had so much going on in my life, and the only thing I could do was pray to Him.  It got to the point that I was so stressed that I was “machine gun praying”  Every extra ounce of energy, every spare-able thought was a prayer.  I often told my wife I feel like an old boiling tea kettle boiling and vibrating itself across the stove top.

In the midst of all my turmoil I read a devotional that basically said sit still.  But I have so much to do in a day!  I was managing multiple projects  in the million dollar column.  There were Cub Scouts, my wife, my children,  all of  whom required something from me.

And the bills.  I shudder at the thought of paying bills.  There  was nothing to pay them with.  We had money coming in.  But the timing was all off.  By the time the NSF fees and the bills were paid we had no money left.  But people demanded to be paid and did not want to hear “if you can just wait a few days….”

Be still.  God what does that look like?  How do I do that?  I am pulled in so many different directions, how do I stop?

So he used my daughter to show me.  She’s five at this point.  Blond, big blue eyes, pixie nose.  Cute as a button.  She’s out of zone so I drop her off to school every morning on my way to work.  I sit as most parents do and watch as she walks to the big double doors, to make sure she gets into the building.

She walks to the big ominous double doors, and to my amazement she stops.  She stands there, looking in through the glass to where she is supposed to go, and waits.  School books in pressed against her body, lunch box in hand, and she waits.  And I watch.  Suddenly she flashes a smile and waves at someone inside the school and they come open the door.

It hit me like a ton of bricks.  She knew what she was capable of.  The doors were too much.  So she waited patiently, rather than exert every ounce of energy into fruitless effort, she waited.  Her stillness paid off.

Cease striving and know that I am God…

Moving again

Just wanted to take a moment and update on mom.  Turns out that it is a stage 3C melanoma.  It is growing but slowly.  Her white blood cells have been doing their job and fighting.  The prognosis is good.

Thank you Father.