Virgin Hunter & An Epic Hunt

My nephew Josh came by for a visit this past week. I haven't seen him in a quite some time. He asked about going hunting so Jr. & I took him. Josh couldn't believe that you just sat still for hours. I could tell this wasn't going to work for him so after about an hour we did some stalking hunting. We covered about a mile & saw 7 armadillos. One just about ran over Josh's sneakers! He was amazed by that. We did jump 2 deer but we didn't have a shot. Along about 6:15 pm we heard a shot ring out over near where Jr. was hunting.

When we got there, Jr. was knelt down near the entrance to the forest. I told Josh that he was either kneeling by the deer or by the last blood drops. It was last blood. We marked it & Jr. & I made a few careful forays into the dense woods. No deer.

We needed a better flashlight for tracking. The way the blood trail dried up, I figured we'd better give this animal time to die & not push it clear to the next county!

So we went to town & got a couple of good flash lights & something to drink. After an hour or so we were back to tracking our wounded game.

Josh proved to have excellent eyes for blood tracking. We hit a couple of 'dry' spots but the young fellas with their young eyes always seemed to find the next spot.

We hit a dry creek bed & saw where the deer leaned up against a tree. It was good blood - a lung shot based on the color & the bubbles in it. I told the guys that the deer wouldn't be far. It was 10 yards from that spot but the trail dried up. I decided to drop back into the creek bed to search further down for more blood. Not 15 feet from there was the beautiful young buck.

Jr. put a fantastic shot on him but it was a little high so the blood stayed in the animal which explained the light blood trail.

I knew there was a quicker way out of the woods so I headed due west. I could see the logging road only 20 yards ahead. Then I stumbled over something. When I caught myself I shined the light on a grave from the 1800's. Pastor Washington Cromwell Cleveland - born in 1803 died in 1869. The inscription read, "His death was a triumph of God's Grace"

There was a 7 year old daughter buried next to him with this inscription, "Here lies our sweet little daughter. We will be with her again soon"

One grave with a little lamb on top of the stone was that of a one month old infant.

I had several emotions & oddly enough, fear was not one of them. One was a sense of blessing to find such a lost treasure. The thought of how blessed I am to live in the 21st century where my babies don't die from now curable diseases. I also thought of the truth of those inscriptions. This primitive baptist Pastor knew the same Jesus that I know. He served the same master that I do. I will meet him one day as I sing the praises of the lamb around the throne. It was a hallowed spot & a holy moment. I was reminded that death is as much a part of life as birth is. I was also reminded that one day I too will be laid to rest. People will say nice things about me & then life will go on. I may be as forgotten as Pastor Cleveland only to be discovered again a century & a half later by a Father & Pastor. Maybe my grave will serve to shake him out of the lethargy of the moment and into the urgency of the Kingdom. Here was my take away: Life is short so live for what lasts longest - eternity. Life is hard, ie - burying several of your children - but God is good & you can still die in his service without being bitter at His sovereign hand in your life. Life is good, this world may forget about me & the forest my take over my resting place but because of Christ, no trees of this world will ever blot out what my Jesus did on that old rugged tree on skull hill outside of Jerusalem over 2000 years ago. Life is good because God is good even when you bury your babies. This man died with his pastoral boots on even though several of his babies preceded him in death. The verse that comes to mind is Hebrews 11:4 "He being dead yet speaketh". Pastor Cleveland spoke to me even though he's been dead since 1869 thanks to a well preserved vault stone. He spoke to my son & nephew as well. I reminded them that this was a hallowed spot & that though we would document what we found we would in no way desecrate that place or the memories of that family. They were in full agreement & what a time we had.

Josh was taken a back a bit by his earthy uncle & cousin but was more than up for the traditional face painting for all virgin hunters on their first harvest experience. We let him off the hook really as local tradition calls for a bite out of the still warm heart.

All in all it was an epic hunt. I was proud of my son for his commitment to find that animal even if it took all night. That young man has some great ethics which are the markers of greatness.

What a night, what a hunt, what a God & what a Gospel!