With Fall within view, and school just around the corner, that means hunting can’t be too far behind! I just finished an article for the CHRISTIAN SPORTSMAN’S MAGAZINE. The focus is how important the “aim” of our life is…and what happens if that “aim” isn’t accurate. Read it…and then let me hear from you.

EVEN THE BEST OF AIMS…

I was fired up. It was finally deer season!

My trusted .270 with a new Zeiss Conquest 3-9 X 40 scope was in my hand…and my wife’s hand was in the other. This was the first day with the scope and the first day Cheryl had ever gone hunting with me. It would be a day to remember, of that I was convinced. And my wife would see first hand the hunting skills I had honed to perfection (feel free to smile)! I hadn’t had time to shoot since we had arrived late the night before, but the gunsmith had assured me the bore sighting he had done should be sufficient.

Being an elegant woman, Cheryl looked as comfortable as Laura Bush would be in Realtree camo. But who was trying to make a fashion statement here, anyway?

The dark morning was crisp and the frost hung in the air. Our breath created suspended crystalline vapor as it exploded out of our mouths. The morning was still and the anticipation high. I was intent on a BIG buck, and my wife would be there to celebrate it with me.

Making our way by flashlight down the log road we headed to our predetermined blind area on the edge of a large wooded area. We had scoped it out the day before. Nestled into the wood’s edge we would have visual sight line of the woods behind us and a large food plot in front of us. We had shot lines in approximately 320
degrees. And a big buck had been spotted in the area over the previous weeks.

So you can imagine my heart pounding when just as day broke when out of the woods from across the plot came two does. And then two more. Creeping out into the plot they kept looking back over their shoulders to the woods. Suddenly, approximately 45 degrees to their left another doe…all looking back to the woods.

My finger began to twitch. I could sense it. Even my wife was glued to the unfolding drama. And suddenly, the movement from across the field caught my attention. Squinting through the dusky dawn I saw the 8 point buck strut out. Barrel chested, he came across the field and about 85 yards away stopped and stared right to where we were nestled in the brush.

Quietly, slowing—and excitedly—I raised my rifle into position, sighted through my new Zeiss and laid the cross hair on the buck’s shoulder. Squeezing the trigger, I knew I had him. And when those seconds cleared and I refocused to see my buck on the ground …there he stood! Staring at me!! It was impossible. I knew I was a better shot than that.

And then he snorted…I swear I heard him snicker! Then he pawed the ground, looked at where I was ensconced, and I fired again. And again he stood unphased. Then slowly, majestically he snorted once again, turned and looked back once again and plunged into the foliage.

My wife’s eye’s said it all, “How could you miss at that distance? Even I could have hit that!!”

And to add insult to injury, another buck would come out two hours later, turn broadside, and invite a take down shot. You guessed it; I took the shot…and missed.

Dumbfounded I headed back to our agreed on meeting point where I knew Richard would be waiting. My hunting buddy was as dependable as the dawn and a crack shot. He would have the answer. Shoving aside the embarrassment, I described the morning to him. “Let’s see,” was his only response as he grabbed my gun, set up a target and went out 50 yards and rested the rifle on a shooting brace he zeroed in and fired.

14 inches wide right. He adjusted and took another shot. 10 inches low. Adjusting several clicks he took aim and fired once more. 11 inches low and to the right.

And so it went for a full box of shells. What in the world was wrong? Were we both blind as a bat? Should we give up hunting?!
And that’s when Richard said, “Maybe I should check the mount.”

If only he had said that 15 cartridges ago! He found that the mounting was loose and regardless how well we thought we were aiming, the loose mount moved just enough to throw every shot off…and in a different direction!

Lesson learned, at a high expense. You can think you’re aiming well. You can be careful and intentional in you aim of where you’re headed and the action you’re wanting to take. BUT, if there are loose points in your life, when you “fire,” no matter how we intentioned you aim, you’re likely to miss. And the cost could break your heart.

So, before you take “aim” in life, be sure your convictions, values and beliefs are screwed down securely. Don’t worry as much about what you “feel” as what you know God’s word says. Be sure that nothing is “loose” in your life that could throw you aim off, regardless of how well your “aim” might be!

SO, HOW WHAT HAVE YOU FOUND TO BE MOST HELPFUL IN KEEPING THE AIM OF YOUR LIFE ACCURATE? AND WHAT ARE THE GREATEST DANGERS YOU’VE THAT CAUSES LIFE’S AIM TO BE MISSED?

All of us hope that our life will ultimately make a difference. We hope that when it is all said and done the imprint we leave will be more like a hand placed in wet cement, that when the cement sets, the handprint is there as long as the cement exists.

Maybe too many of us fear that our imprint may be more like a hand stuck in a bucket of water….pull it out, and within about 15 seconds you can’t even tell it was ever there!

Cheryl and I spent the last week with some folks who are making an imprint that lasts. We were honored to speak to coaches and their spouses at Coach’s Camp for FCA. Dickey Clark stands at the helm giving it great leadership, and we saw men and women who are committed to making an eternal difference in the lives of students in high school and college. These are folks putting “Christ’s imprint” in the wet concrete of student’s lives…many who never darken the doors of a church before they meet a Christian coach!

Did you have one of those in your life? I did. Tell me about him or her?

Are you a coach and want to accomplish that? What are you doing to make it happen?

IT PAYS TO BE ALERT!

There’s nothing like the golden hues of the Aspens, Poplars, and Cottonwoods of Wyoming and Montana in the Fall. The winds rustling through the leaves play a harmony that is music to an outdoorsman’s ears. Fly fishing is drawing to a close for the season. Deer and elk season are around the corner. The rut will have animals on the move like they haven’t been in months. Trigger fingers begin to twitch. The fashion for clothes becomes camo. And Scent Loc doesn’t have anything to do with a security device on a door.

That is where I found myself recently outside of Cody, Wyoming. The colors were the most vibrant I had seen them in years. I felt I was walking through a Terry Redkin painting. The mountains sat a purple velvet draped panoramic backdrop to a wonderland I too often am able to only dream about.

We had ridden through the mountains setting on the vistas with a 360 degree view of “forever.” The horses had labored getting up some of the inclines…but the view at the top was worth it all. At least for us. But it sure made me glad that I wasn’t horse!

But there is one thing that can significantly disrupt the idyllic aura of the mighty Rockies—Grizzlies! They had spotted them in the pasture a few days before I arrived. A mother and her cubs. The fur thick. The silver coloring tipping the hair glistening in the rays of the sun. Powerfully striding through the field she left little doubt of who ruled the roost.

And when grizzlies are on the prowl you had better keep your senses keen, a gun or bear spray close and your feet ready to move quickly. But they can take even the most experienced off guard in a hurry.

Larry Ellis is the seasoned ranch manager on the beautiful spread onwhich I was spending several days. He had told me to be careful and alert, taken a gun and spray as we had ridden both the ranch and national forest, and had watched the mamouth animal…now joined by a male…through glasses. A bear can outrun a horse in a 100 yards or less so knowing their whereabouts at all times when outside is vital.

I had gone up to a higher point on the ranch and had no idea of the crisis developing below. Larry and his wife Melanie, along with their four year old son Colter, had been pacing off the area of their new ranch home to be built in the coming months. Squatting down on the ground they were focused on the drawings and schematics, discussing the pros and cons of various alternatives for the place that would be their “refuge” from the demanding responsibilities of ranch life.

Suddenly, Melanie noticed a movement in her perifphial vision. Probably one of the horses. But something deep in that woman’s intuition told her differently. Glancing up with a foreboding inner sense, she froze as she looked into the face of the mother grizzly, accompanied by her cubs…30 feet away!

“Grrriiizzzlly,” she stammered, grabbing Colter and backing away. Stunned, Larry reached for his .44 magnum. And time seemed to stand still…or at least move in slow motion.

You’re never supposed to look a grizzly in the eye…but Melanie would later say she inadvertently did that day. Two mothers, each with their kids, facing off. Melanie wondering if she could get Colter away fast enough. Larry trying to assure safety in a terrorizing moment. And a grizzley sow, determining whether to attack or retreat, while simultaneously scuttling her cubs away to safety.

With tension crackling in the air, everything seemed to move in slow motion. The sow stuck her neck forward, sniffing the air and shaking her head slowly, debating the charge. Suddenly…thankfully…she rolled her head to the side, turned and trotted after her cubs as Melanie swept Colter to the house, and the men let out an audible gasp of relief from held breath’s that burst out in released tension.

We would all do we to be reminded that while it is easy to get distracted daily in our normal activities, there is always an Adversary on the prowl close by waiting for his opportunity to pounce. Rather than a bear, Scripture describes Satan as a “roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). His desire is not to merely trip us up, but to destroy us and our testimony.

So, heads up! Be on the alert! Be ready to resist…and stand firm! You never when he’ll show up.