LITTLE THINGS

As I climbed up into the southeast tree stand something did not feel quite right. The stand rests upon a spindle of a tree which sways back and forth whenever the breeze breaks above ten miles per hour. It was a steady fifteen that evening. I have never been a big fan of heights, but the advantages of getting up into a tree for deer hunting gives me the proper incentive to face the fears I can usually avoid. After strapping in, I started to pull my bow up with the small cord I had attached to it. Apparently I had not attached it very well. After raising it only a few feet, the bow fell to the ground.

I sat there for a moment feeling uncomfortable in the swaying tree. I stared down at the bow, and then looked out through the tree line to the nearby corn field. I could climb down and retrieve the bow. I could hike to another tree stand. I could just stay in the stand I was in and just enjoy the moment without worrying about the bow. But what if a monster buck walked by?

I remembered a buck I shot a few years ago after descending two trees and “happening” to find a tree to stand beside when the biggest whitetail I had ever shot stepped into the only shooting lane possible and stopped fifteen feet away. Now I do not believe in coincidences and I believe God cares about us in the little things just like in the big things—our existence does not even make sense otherwise. So if it wasn’t for God, I would have never been in the so-called right place at the so-called right time. I also remembered a bible passage that had been on my mind for a few weeks:

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. As high as the heavens are above the earth so are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts. Isaiah 55:8-9

I had been stressed about an upcoming project and my thoughts were not particularly focused on hunting. As I stared into that cornfield wondering if a big buck might be hiding among the stalks, I realized that maybe I had not actually come to the woods for hunting. Maybe I had come for clarity or to find a bit of peace.

I did climb out of that swaying tree and I did pick up my bow and I did go find a spot to sit on the ground and wait. But I spent most of the evening staring up into the canopy of leaves and the flickering of lights piercing through them. I sat and listened to the breeze and the leaves and even a plane flying overhead. After some time, I could hear that quiet voice inside my soul. It did not say anything. It did not have to. I just needed to be reminded that I was not alone, that I was loved, and that He cared.