Hunter's Prayer

M

Muddyboots

Moderator
Staff member
As we approach the hunting season, a friend sent me this and thought worthwhile to share.
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By the grace of God may I always honor, thank and adore the Lord God who created the animals and saw that each species was good. Let me love the God who made humans in His own image and likeness and set them over the whole world, to have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth (Gen 1:26). By my honorable conduct as a hunter let me give a good example and teach new hunters principles of honor, so that each new generation can show respect for God, other hunters and the animals, and enjoy the dignity of the hunt.

Prayer for honest hunt
Lord, may I make an honest count of game, respecting the legal limits of game in order to preserve the balance of life and death among the animals. May I so love the truth that I always give an honest recounting of the hunting stories while keeping them interesting to my friends. May I also listen to my friends' stories with enjoyment and without envy.
 
Muddyboots said:
As we approach the hunting season, a friend sent me this and thought worthwhile to share.
===================================
By the grace of God may I always honor, thank and adore the Lord God who created the animals and saw that each species was good. Let me love the God who made humans in His own image and likeness and set them over the whole world, to have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth (Gen 1:26). By my honorable conduct as a hunter let me give a good example and teach new hunters principles of honor, so that each new generation can show respect for God, other hunters and the animals, and enjoy the dignity of the hunt.

Prayer for honest hunt
Lord, may I make an honest count of game, respecting the legal limits of game in order to preserve the balance of life and death among the animals. May I so love the truth that I always give an honest recounting of the hunting stories while keeping them interesting to my friends. May I also listen to my friends' stories with enjoyment and without envy.
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Last line there is a good one.
 
So, I'll tell it.

Last year my mother died. She had congestive heart failure and diabetes. I got the, "You need to be here" call. When I arrived my Mom was laying in a hospital bed breathing erratically and unconscious. My family all told me she didn't know I was there. Beside her bed, I would call out to her, Mom! She would open her eyes and look at me for a few seconds and then drift back off. I did this a few times, with the same response. Docs said she had all kinds of organ failure and just a matter of time.

I stood by the bed and talked to her, told her how good of a mom she was, and how much I loved her. Told her to say hello to our past relatives for me. I remembered when I was a very young tike, she would "rub my eyes" and face. that was the phrase we used. She would put me to sleep like that, and I remember the experience as probably the most loving and warm feeling a kid, hell a grown man too, could feel. So, I did the same back to her that moment. I saw the pain fade away from her face, the monitor beeps slowed down, and she started breathing normal. "Oh thank God" I felt inside me! She knew I was there, and I was able to return the favor to her, to ease her to sleep. I did that until the docs asked us if we were ready for her to have the final meds to comfort her before death.

I told that story to tell this story. That next hunting season I shot a buck. CNS hit, DRT, bang flop. I went back to the cabin to organize the processing. I ate an MRE, got warm, and then rolled back out to the buck to field dress. The buck was still alive! It raised it's head and looked at me with fear. Not fear from me, but I knew it knew it was dying. I felt absolutely horrible that I let an animal suffer. An animal was made to suffer at my hands. I talked to that poor buck and when he lifted his head I placed it into my lap. I rubbed that bucks eyes. He closed them and lay there with calm. While I was doing that I pulled my knife and ended my botched job.

I can only imagine that second experience was God telling me, "Hey, these are still lives that you are taking". So, I think about that a lot these days.
 
BFD said:
So, I'll tell it.

Last year my mother died. She had congestive heart failure and diabetes. I got the, "You need to be here" call. When I arrived my Mom was laying in a hospital bed breathing erratically and unconscious. My family all told me she didn't know I was there. Beside her bed, I would call out to her, Mom! She would open her eyes and look at me for a few seconds and then drift back off. I did this a few times, with the same response. Docs said she had all kinds of organ failure and just a matter of time.

I stood by the bed and talked to her, told her how good of a mom she was, and how much I loved her. Told her to say hello to our past relatives for me. I remembered when I was a very young tike, she would "rub my eyes" and face. that was the phrase we used. She would put me to sleep like that, and I remember the experience as probably the most loving and warm feeling a kid, hell a grown man too, could feel. So, I did the same back to her that moment. I saw the pain fade away from her face, the monitor beeps slowed down, and she started breathing normal. "Oh thank God" I felt inside me! She knew I was there, and I was able to return the favor to her, to ease her to sleep. I did that until the docs asked us if we were ready for her to have the final meds to comfort her before death.

I told that story to tell this story. That next hunting season I shot a buck. CNS hit, DRT, bang flop. I went back to the cabin to organize the processing. I ate an MRE, got warm, and then rolled back out to the buck to field dress. The buck was still alive! It raised it's head and looked at me with fear. Not fear from me, but I knew it knew it was dying. I felt absolutely horrible that I let an animal suffer. An animal was made to suffer at my hands. I talked to that poor buck and when he lifted his head I placed it into my lap. I rubbed that bucks eyes. He closed them and lay there with calm. While I was doing that I pulled my knife and ended my botched job.

I can only imagine that second experience was God telling me, "Hey, these are still lives that you are taking". So, I think about that a lot these days.
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Brad, you have had one heckava rough ride last 2 years. 🙏
 
My grandparents gave me a break action 20 gauge for Christmas one year as a kid. Later the next year I went rabbit hunting with a friend. We didn’t see any rabbits, but I did shoot a tiny bird that I had no reason to shoot. My conscience took over, and I felt terrible.

Fast forward 30 years (maybe more!). I have lost a few animals, as we all have. And like (I trust) all here, I felt terrible, just as I did with that bird. That feeling compelled me to be a better hunter, a better shot, and a better steward of the resources with which the good Lord has entrusted me. I hope and pray I can impart the same responsibility and gratitude to my son.

As an aside, the same grandfather that gave me the shotgun turned me on to the 7x57. He wouldn’t even show—much less allow me to touch!—his Mauser, but I will always remember the affection he had for that rifle.

Now that he has gone west, the Mauser is in my safe. It being a ‘95 model, I didn’t trust it for hunting, so I put together a 7x57 on a Tikka. (Anathema to have that cartridge on a push feed, I know. Please forgive me!!! 😔). First modern firearm deer will be taken with that 7x57 this year shooting a 120HH. (Will share data soon, George). And my grandfather, Grumps, will be hunting with me…even though he said he had enough venison during the Depression to last him a lifetime!

Oh, how I love hunting! Thanks be to God!
 
Muddyboots said:
Brad, you have had one heckava rough ride last 2 years. 🙏
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Yessir, I agree. Corny as it might sound, there was a line from the book/movie, "The Count of Monte Cristo" that I reflect back upon:

“Life is a storm, my young friend. You will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shattered on the rocks the next. What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. You must look into that storm and shout as you did in Rome. Do your worst, for I will do mine! Then the fates will know you as we know you”​

 
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