Thu 6 Nov, 2008 01:58 pm
I went to church this morning.
The church I attended wasn’t awash in religious rituals. My seat wasn’t a polished wood pew and there were no hymnals or bibles at the church I attended. Nevertheless, the spirit of God enveloped me. I could feel His presence.
I go to church early this time of year. This Sunday morning was not all that different than other Sunday mornings. I was greeted by the pre-dawn moon and stars. Silent night. All is calm.
The moon lighted my way to my seat. As I sat quietly in the dark morning allowing the cold breeze to wash my face, the pink hint of a new day filled the sky. No artist could paint the canvas I witnessed this morning"or any other sunrise or sunset. It was as if God was gave me a front row seat to watch the rebirth of a new day. It was spectacular.
The steeples of my church are not straight. There no crosses atop them and they bend in the wind. But the steeples in my church still arch towards the sky, as if to pay homage to their creator. They are prettier than any man-made church steeple. I feel at home in their perch.
Though I was the only person in my church, the spirit of fellowship was strong. The choir was wonderful as usual. I was serenaded to any number of beautiful songs by the birds who signaled the arrival of dawn. I closed my eyes and let them sing their songs to me. I smiled. How Great Thou Art.
As the dawn’s light opened my sanctuary to my tired, old eyes, I slowly and quietly turned my head to and fro to see what other of God’s creatures was in my sanctuary. The gray body of a whitetail deer materialized out of the fog seventy yards in front of me and then disappeared back into the sanctuary. Squirrels chattered. The distant sound of ducks added to the splendor. I thanked God for being alive to witness the beauty of His creatures, both great and small.
Dead leaves quietly drifted to the forest floor. As I watched individual leaves fall and coat the forest floor with their beautiful shades of yellow, orange and red, I was literally watching God’s natural cycle of the fall take place in front of me. If you haven’t sat quietly in the woods and watched thousands of leaves fall lazily to the forest floor, you are missing one of God’s most beautiful art shows. Go and watch this and you will thank Him for it.
Even amongst the beauty that surrounded me, my predator extinct was on full alert. That’s natural, the way it is supposed to be during this season of harvest. As I slowly turned to see what was behind me, three does cautiously picked their way through the underbrush towards me. They sauntered directly under the tree I was sitting in. It wasn’t time to kill. It was time to observe and learn. The time to kill and feed my family is coming soon.
Watching the deer amble by reminded me that I had a special invite to this beautiful sanctuary, which is their home and my Season Of Harvest Church. I can think clearly there, have conversations with God. In this church there is no clutter, no e-mail, no cell phone, no pagers, no one to steal my attention. I’m at peace there. I like to be alone there with just my thoughts and memories and rest and recharge my internal batteries and spirit.
In a mere few days, the woods will come alive with activity of buck deer. And I will be there in this sanctuary to bear witness to it"as I should be. To be somewhere else would be against who I am.
Something from deep inside me pulls me to Season of Harvest Church. If you listen closely, you hear the voice of God in the wind as it blows through leaves and the treetops. Enter quietly and be still and you’ll be welcomed into the sanctuary where you will witness all the natural beauty God has created for you.
WQow, did you write that Ceej?
No, can't say that I did. I'll see if I can find the proper credit for it. It was just something that was posted on another site I visit, also without credit, but not written by the poster either.
For those of you that despise my hunting, I'd challenge any of you to spend a morning in a blind or stand - with or without a weapon, during this time of the year and not walk away moved.
OK, it was written by a friend of Ted's, who I know only as Magnum Opus, Esq.
I think he's Ward Parker, co-author of "God, Guns, and Rock & Roll".
Shooting deer is a good walk in the woods wasted IMHO. NOW, give me a sneak boat or an open field blind in a frosty morning in the swamp, where ducks and geese are winging to their morning ablutions, and I am so there. I like wild duck like some folks relish caviar or truffles. A wild duck or wild goose dinner, with crispy skinned bird served with a sweet /sour red beet reductiony gravy made with pan drippins, accompanied by gravy baked potatoes and Penn Dutch "chow chow" and corn bread ,is to me, the best in eating.
I therefore look forward to the foggy cold November and December mornings driving to the flats with my partner -in-hunting. Or else, Ill help dig those damned goose blinds and deploy fifty of the dummest looking decoys that are about 3 times normal goose size. I will lay uncomfortably in a low blind for hours, awaiting the distinctive wingwhistle sounds of mallards, canvasbacks, or the honking of canada geese. That is a day worth being out in the field. Top it all off watching some dogs do their work and rowing back to shore with a limit (or not). Then follow that up with a dinner with family and friends in which only a few are mildly interested in the retelling of the hunting tale .
We havent changed much from our Paleo ancestors. The technology" s better, but the need for food and family are pretty much unchanged.
I love duck too. I've never waterfowled other than in an early cut cornfield (my son actually, on youth waterfowl weekend). They flew right over us on Saturday, all day long, so I got the boy some steel shot, and the next day, they avoided us like they could smell those steel pellets.
We were deer hunting, but you have to hunt what is presented, and the deer weren't presenting.
W shot, if you can get it . (Tungsten Carbide) It does scour a barrel but for a shotgun you can always keeps a spare barrel or two.