Hunting in Heaven

November 15. Opening day of firearm deer season. Means nothing to me personally. Two or maybe more reasons: I don't hunt. I don't ever care to hunt. I don't like venison and never have. My husband quit hunting because he lost a little desire for it. He now assists those who are just starting out-teaching them the art of tactful hunting. Yes, tactful. He has never shot a deer off a feed pile, which he does not believe in. He also won't shoot just to shoot. He won't shoot if he can't get an instant kill, and he has always prayed over his deer, thanking God for each one he has ever given. He is my humble hunter, never chasing after "the biggest rack". That's why I have enjoyed it when new hunters (friends or family) have gotten their first under his care. 

Last year he took Serena hunting. I think they did more snacking than hunting, and that's actually what meant the most to her. Daddy actually packed chicken legs for her! Who needs candy bars? :) 

He had spent weeks with her teaching her gun safety and shooting practice, but when it came down to it, she wasn't interested in the kill at all. 

Because the real fun is in the hunt after all. The time with dad and the love and lessons she received and gave back. 

My brother Jeff was a hunter of all kinds and I enjoyed hearing his stories. In fact he and his son had a wonderful time at the family cottage last fall checking out spots to hunt. They were two city boys living off the land and loving it. I am so glad they took the time to do that. They had planned on being there again this fall. In fact, After consulting with Jeff about some problems we were having with the neighbors up there, he told me which tree he would have put his stand. 

If the things we loved here are magnified in heaven, then Jeff is surrounded by wildlife and the best hunting property he could ever see. 

That is the only thing bringing me comfort is imagining my brother in heaven, being loved by Jesus, reunited with his family. And now today I picture him hunting in heaven.