It’s cold, and it’s raining so hard that my phone can barely stay dry long enough for me to write this. I’ve been getting rained on all day, and still, there’s this quiet peace in being out here. The last time I sat in this stand, I said a prayer — a simple one. I told God that if it was His will to let me take a deer, I would accept that gift and use it to feed myself. But only if it was His will.
Literally right after I finished writing that prayer, I looked up — and there were two bucks standing in front of me. I remember almost laughing to myself, like, well, okay then, that was fast. But the funny thing is, things aren’t always what they seem. I had two clean chances to kill two different deer, and I missed both. Later I found out my bow sight had been bumped, and it was shooting way low.
I can’t even describe how thankful I was that I didn’t wound either of them. The relief that came over me was stronger than any disappointment. I was just so grateful — grateful that God protected those animals from my mistake, and maybe protected me from pride or from thinking I had more control than I do.
It’s made me think a lot about the difference between opportunity and ability. God can open a door, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to walk through it. Maybe sometimes He lets the opportunity come not to show us our success, but to show us our limits — to remind us that provision doesn’t always come in the form we expect.
It reminds me of a few verses:
Proverbs 16:9 – “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”
→ I thought I was ready, thought I had my aim figured out, but God had a different plan for that moment.
2 Corinthians 12:9 – “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
→ Missing those shots didn’t feel like grace at the time, but maybe it was.
Job 1:21 – “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”
→ I think this was about accepting the outcome, whatever it was, with gratitude rather than frustration.
So maybe the lesson wasn’t about success at all. Maybe it was just about gratitude — gratitude that I was here to experience it, that those animals are still alive, and that I’m learning humility with every arrow I loose.