I had a great Thanksgiving and an interesting time, and I want to tell you about that in exquisite detail. I want you to feel, emotionally, what I went through on my hunting trip. I grew up duck hunting, squirrel hunting, and doing a little bit of dove hunting. I never did much deer hunting – only a handful of times, and only once did I see a deer, take a shot, and missed. One day some of us were talking about our deer-hunting experiences, and I shared mine.
Mike Warner is one of our new elders, and not only that, he preached here for almost 30 years. Mike heard me say this, and he said, “We’ve got property and I’ll take you there, and you’ll get a deer.” How could I turn down an offer like that? Not only that, he offered to take Timothy and me.
I thought this would be great. This will be a great father and son experience, and I appreciated Mike’s generosity.
He had told me virtually everyone who has ever gone there, has killed a deer, with only one or two exceptions. Even his granddaughter killed one and I don’t even know if she could yet when she killed it. That’s the kind of experiences people have had.
So, we went the Friday after Thanksgiving, and I was concerned. I wanted to make sure I knew all the rules and the laws. For example, was it ok to shoot a doe? (It was— the doe population was too large.) Mike informed about other important details and then he said, “There’s a buck that’s got 10 points, that runs around our property. Don’t shoot him; he’s kind of like a family pet.”
I asked him, “Mike, I’m not very good at counting points, you know. I’m not very experienced at this. Is there any way I can distinguish which buck this is?”
He said, “Yeah, he’s got a collar on.”
I said, “Ok, I can get that. I can remember that.”
We arrived on Mike’s property near Lampasas and it feelt like one of those game preserves you take kids on in your car so they can see the animals. We were surrounded by deer. Mike said, “Well, here you go. You want to go ahead and get you one?”
Meanwhile, I’m starting to feel a little guilty. I can envision myself traveling home and having my three girls ask me, “Daddy, did you get a deer?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Well, how’d you kill him?”
“I just rolled down the window and a doe stuck her head inside the pick up and I ….”
No! I felt like I needed to sacrifice and toil. I needed to sit in a blind somewhere for a long time—and pay a price.
I told Mike, “No, Mike, I don’t want to do this. It’s too easy.” So, he took me out to a blind, in a great area. You could see far and wide. It was Friday afternoon. Timothy and I sat in the blind for a couple of hours. Timothy is seven, but he was doing great.
We didn’t see anything and then finally, when the sun was behind the trees and it was beginning to get dark, we saw some at a distance. Does started coming out of a distant tree line. They came and stood in front of it. It seemed like they were a long way away, but I got my scope out and I debated in my mind—do I take a shot? It looked like the deer were about 300 yards away. (Later on, I measured it out and it was around 220.) The distance seemed too far away. However, I could not help thinking if this is the only deer I saw, and if I did not take a shot, I would feel guilty. I decided to shoot and just do the best I could.
Considering all of the variables involved, I was actually pretty calm as I aimed. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Now, I’m not an experienced deer hunter, but I know I did not hit that deer. I’m sure if I were anywhere close, that deer would have taken off. Not only did that doe not take off, she stood up even higher. I could have sworn she started preening. She did everything short of taking her hoof, licking it, smooth her hair, pull out a mirror, put on her makeup, and powder her nose.
I’m telling you, she psyched me out. That doe was so confident; I just knew she knew she was too far away for me to hurt her. I decided not to take another shot. Timothy and I saw nothing else that day.
The next morning, (Sat) morning, around 6:30 – we were out before the sun was up. It was cold—in the 20s—and I liked it. I had often hunted ducks and squirrels in that kind of weather. We sat out in the blind in the cold weather. Timothy had a sleeping bag; he slept for a couple of hours.
We sat in the blind for 2, 2 ½, maybe 3 hours, and we did not see a thing. By then Mike was feeling awfully bad. He called me on my cell phone and told me was going to walk around the perimeter of the tree line to try to scare some deer up for us.
Mike did everything short of getting a pot and pan and crying out, “Hey deer! Yeha! Come on!”
Lo and behold, Timothy looked and said, “Dad, look, there’s a good buck.” It was—a beautiful ten point buck.
He said, “Dad, aren’t you going to shoot it?” I said, “Timothy, I can’t. That’s the family pet. That’s Bucky.”
He said, “Dad, how do you know it’s the family pet?” I said, “He’s got a collar. See that pink collar?”
Timothy asked, “Why’s he wearing a pink collar?” I said, “I don’t know. (Mike Warner hates to see men wearing pink!) I don’t know; I’m totally confused, but we just can’t shoot him.”
Wouldn’t you know it? Bucky took about fifteen minutes as he paraded in front of us. I think he knew I could not shoot them. Finally, Bucky paused in distance-he might have even waved at me-and then he entered inside the forest, and that was it. We did not see anymore.
Now, I’ll have to confess to you, there was a period of time, when I was in that blind, when I prayed. I said, “Lord, I would never ask for you help me kill a deer for myself, but you know, Mike Warner has gone to a lot of trouble, Lord, to try to make this happen. He invested a lot of time. Timothy’s been good; I think it would be a memorable experience for him if I killed a deer. Judy and the three girls have sacrificed – they let us go stay in the Town & Country Motorsport in Lampasas, Texas. They might even be envious of us for getting to stay in such a wonderful, luxurious motor inn. I would love to bring them back a deer and let them see that all of their investment of time and money proved worthwhile.”
So, so I laid it before the Lord—“… ask and ye shall be given, seek and ye shall find, knock and the door shall be opened to you…”
But guess what the Lord answered? “NO!”
Saturday afternoon, as we were getting back, I shared with Mike my “disillusionment”. (I am speaking tongue-in-cheek, of course.) After all, the next morning, I was preaching on Matthew 7:7-12—“Ask and it shall be given to you….” But Mike said something that knocked me right out of my spiritual stupor. I said, “Mike, the Lord says ‘ask and it shall be given to you, seek and ye shall find, knock and the door shall be opened to you….’ Mike, I prayed about this. What shall I tell the people?”
Mike looked at me and said, “You think those deer weren’t praying too?”
Five Things I Think I Think (with a nod to Peter King for this idea)
1. When I was in high school, my dad took me to visit Don Meredith’s parents one wintry, Saturday afternoon. Daddy knew them because my grandparents had property that bordered Mr. and Mrs. Meredith’s property a few miles outside of Mt. Vernon (Texas.) My grandparents and Don’s parents were friends.
Mr. Meredith had seen me play quarterback in our game against Mt. Vernon, was very complimentary, and invited my dad and me to visit him sometime. As I recall, we stayed for an hour or two. Of course, this was during Don’s heyday with Monday Night Football and television movies, so he was not there. However, Don’s parents were delightful hosts—simply kind and gracious people.
As it neared the hour to leave, Mr. Meredith asked if I would like to see the scrapbooks Don’s mother had made for Don during his high school years. Of course, I said, yes. He brought them out and then, unbelievably, he suggested I take them home and bring them back the next time I was nearby.
I still cannot believe the Meredith’s generosity. I am also grateful for their trust in me. I am happy to report I returned them through my dad, safe and sound.
I also remember being fascinated by Don’s high school career. He truly was an All-American boy with a variety of interests. Not only was he a legendary athlete, he participated in a variety of activities including Vo-Ag (one team he was on won a state championship) and drama.
I truly enjoyed going through Don’s scrapbooks. Although, I never got to meet Don, I feel like I got to know him.
Today, I got word that Don Meredith passed away at age 72. I had suspected this day would soon come.
Don Meredith was my first quarterback hero. My earliest football memories are of my dad and I watching him play on TV for the Dallas Cowboys. Rest in peace Don, we will miss you.
2. It's better to die living than to live afraid.
3. It’s my fault Dallas has been losing. Every time I have not watched—they’ve won.
4. Congratulations, TCU. We’re proud of you.
5. Congratulations Haleigh Edge and Brandon Mosely for being named ROTARY CLUB’s Students of the Year for ETCA.
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