It's turkey hunting season here in West Virginia. Last week, my husband and I were fortunate to harvest our birds but certainly not without a story or two behind them. Such is normally the case with us in hunting and, this year, a lesson in patience was to be had as well. I normally consider myself a pretty patient person. I researched the gift of patience some time ago and found the meaning of the word itself rather simple: the abililty to wait without complaint. It sounds much easier than it actually is.
Early in the morning, my husband and I jaunted down to what I deem my 'honey hole' for turkey hunting. We had heard another gobbler above our house who was actively calling but we opted to continue down to the area where we had been seeing birds for weeks, knowing there was a mature gobbler in the group. As morning began to break across the horizon, we saw turkeys begin to fly down from the roost into the field. It was only a matter of time before that gobbler appeared.
The 'plan' was for Mike to call in the bird and I got to shoot him. Have you ever noticed things don't always go according to our plans? Well, the gobbler came, just as expected, although he was much closer than we thought he would approach. Once he rounded behind us, I knew I could easily turn to get a shot. As I shouldered my .22 hornet, I laid the cross hairs on his side and fired. Much to my dismay, my bullet nicked the only piece of barb wire fence and sent the bird running. Heartbroken and disappointed, I began to question myself, my hunting skills (or obvious lack thereof that day), my rifle - you know, all of the tools I possessed. Mike tried to reassure me to no avail. I was crushed in missing the shot and the turkey.
Twenty minutes passed and Mike called softly to get a line of where the other birds might be. Much to our surprise, the gobbler answered behind us and merely pitched over the hill on foot at the noise of my misplaced shot. I told Mike the next shot was his, should it present itself so he proceeded to call softly until the gobbler cautiously approached from another direction. Once he came into shotgun range, Mike fired and the bird went down immediately. Closer examination revealed a nice 3 year old turkey, one I had been watching for weeks but was not mine to claim.
After tagging the bird, we returned home for a quick coffee and ventured back out above the house to where we had heard another gobbler earlier in the day. I opted to switch to my .20 gauge Benelli shotgun to avoid any fence issues if I had the chance to harvest a bird and off we went to another turkey blind. We set up and sat for about an hour, hearing a distant gobble from time to time. Mike would call to him and get answered but no birds showed up. We had decided to wait another hour before relocating and within a few minutes, a jake showed up. I had my heart set on harvesting a long bearded turkey so I let the jake walk. He fed in the grass and around the trees, scratching in the leaves around our blind.
Just then, a gobble came from just over the ridge and Mike answered him with a hen call. I spotted the turkey out about 120 yards as he jumped on a log and sat down. It was rather funny to watch this gobbler just sit on this log for 15 minutes before deciding to head towards our set up. All the while, the jake meandered around, feeding and scratching. It was a trying time to wait on this turkey to get within shotgun range. More than once, I was tempted to use my husband's over and under (rifle/shotgun) rather than wait for him to get within 50 yards. Each time, I passed on using the rifle, opting to continue to wait for the turkey. He gave us many signs of coming down to our post only to retreat again up the hill as he and the jake fought over the best feeding spot in the field. Despite hen calls from my husband, neither the gobbler or the jake seemed interested in coming any closer to our position.
The 'temptation' not to wait on the gobbler to come within shotgun range was intense. After all, we had been watching this bird for almost 3 hours and he stayed out at about 70 yards. A rifle shot would have been easy and the hunt would have ended long ago. But, I stayed on task with watching the bird and, once he came within range, I let a shot fly and down he went. We looked at the watch and calculated it took nearly 3 1/2 hours for this turkey to come within 60 yards. He had stayed just out of range for my shotgun but I could have harvested him with my husband's rifle.
I'm glad I waited because the time we spent watching was also a time of learning. The lesson was partly in the first part of the hunt, where I missed the first bird. I assumed that all of my plans and strategy would pay off quickly, as planned, so to speak. But I had not calculated for a small strand of wire. In fact, I had not even seen it in my scope. Such are the things of God too, in that we always fall short in leaning on our own abilities and plans. In placing our confidence on these natural things, we can easily miss the mark of God's best for our lives. In the desire to achieve our goals quickly, we often miss a small but influential part of our walk: patience.
In the second hunt, I learned waiting without complaint is not as easy as it sounds. Some things are often kept just out of our reach and for reasons beyond our comprehension. Waiting, waiting and then waiting some more is often what we hear from the Lord. Just when we think we have our shot, we are forced to wait again. If we take matters into our own hands, we risk missing God altogether. Or, at the very least, missing God's best. The pleasure in knowing we have done well in our wait far exceeds the quick fix our culture so often seeks. It is in the waiting that our focus becomes all the more clear to us. And, it is in the waiting our character is refined and revealed.
Thank you, Lord for these life lessons. Help me to stay focused on You - your best for my life, rather than seeking my own way. I pray You will be exalted and magnifed in all that I set my hand to accomplish and that You alone would be glorified. Thank you, Jesus!
