Some moments don't go the way we had hoped it would go but...

For the past four years, I've had the privilege of hunting with my son.  We would get our stuff laid out the night before and wake up early and take our seats in the deer blind.  It's usually cold outside, but that doesn't matter.  What does matter is that we are doing this together, father and son.  As a dad, I absolutely love these moments.  Hunting creates a great moment of bonding that I haven't found in other areas.  He's usually chipper and talkative as he is hoping to see some action that morning.  Will that big buck we've been dreaming of walk out for us to shoot? Time will tell.

Everything was the going as planned as we made our way to the deer stand that morning.  We took our seats, dropped the gear and I happened to glance out the side window.  About 10 yards away was a buck, standing there in the dark of the morning.  We stared each other down until he ran off about 60 yards east of us and vanished in the pines.  I looked at Luke and he looked at me and we started to get excited about what may await us that morning.

As the sun started to rise, we kept a lookout for our friend to pay us a visit.  Nothing.  It was quiet.  It was about 8:30 in the morning when I happened to see him, the 8 point buck out the front window of the deer blind.  Our friend had returned.  My heart started to pound as I told Luke to prepare himself for the blast of my shotgun.

"Dad! Dad, I can't get the earmuffs on!"  Luke was scrambling to put on his ear protection before I pulled the trigger.  You see, he hates the loud sound of the shotgun and he had asked me earlier if it was alright to wear them when I was going to shoot.  I was fine with that but when it came to the moment of pulling the trigger, I wasn't in the mood to protect his ears but instead, put that buck on my wall and some meat in my freezer. 

It's funny and aggravating how God speaks to us in those moments.  I knew I should put the gun down and help him.  I knew my son was more important and this moment was more about bonding than a buck.  So I put the gun back, managed to help him get his ear protection on in time to look out the window to find a missing deer.  Mr. 8 point was gone. I never saw him again.

We left the deer stand that morning without a prize on my wall.  But I did go home with a son who knew that he was more important to me than anything.  We were there on a mission. It was our moment.  Some moments don't go the way we had hoped it would go but we left with something much better; a deeper love for one another!