Christmas is a time of joy, celebration, and time with family.
But for many, it’s a dark time of isolation and loneliness, especially when it brings back memories of a dearly departed loved one.
I’ve had my brush with this and remember the date clearly. It was Dec. 27, 2014.
No place is more alive just before dark than the cactus-filled thickets of deep South Texas and that’s where me and my Dad were hunting.
My father and I were hunting our friend Robert Scherer’s ranch near Freer and I was absolutely stunned by the number of big bucks, young bucks, does and other creatures I spotted.
A stunning green jay sang just outside the tower blind I sat in while a long-legged bobcat carefully moved down the sendero.
The scene’s highlight was a massive drop-tined 10-pointer that looked like something out of a deer hunter’s dream. I was there to shoot does for the freezer but had as much fun filming and photographing the behemoth as I would have shooting it.
Truly majestic.
The previous evening, Dad shot a beautiful 18-inch eight-pointer that was his second biggest buck, only behind a three-main-beamed monster he bagged at the same ranch two years earlier.
“That is a nice buck. I’m so happy for you,” I told Dad as I showed him a photo of it on my phone.
“Yeah. It is nice,” he replied with a smirk.
“See anything this evening, Dad?”
“A few does and a bunch of javelina, 15 of them,” he replied.
Dad then explained that a group of 14 javelinas came out and fed on the corn scattered down the Sendero and that he raised his rifle to shoot one but just couldn’t do it.
“I really didn’t want to shoot a javelina and learned years ago not to shoot anything that I did not want to eat,” he said.
“So, I decided to get some photos for you, but when I positioned the camera, they all left.”
“Then something interesting happened,” he said.
“A lone javelina that had not been part of their group came out and virtually posed for me and let me take several good shots.”
Dad then turned on his camera and showed me some nice photos as a big smile came across his face.
“I believe that was God’s way of showing me I did the right thing.”
“How awesome is that, Dad? God has shown us some amazing signs in nature, hasn’t He?” I replied.
We briefly spoke about that and then decided to quarter his buck hanging in Scherer’s freezer.
While cleaning the buck with another gentleman and his wife who were hunting the ranch, Dad suddenly said, “I think I overexerted myself.”
I walked over to help him from the squatted position, and he looked at me and said, “It’s not good.”
The couple who were helping us with the buck were EMTs, and they worked on Dad and kept his heart beating for a good while, long enough for me to tell him I was proud to be his son, that me, mom, my wife Lisa and his beloved granddaughter Faith loved him.
Soon after, Dad passed from this world into the arms of His Savior, Jesus Christ.
My head spun as I watched the man who introduced me to the great outdoors, supported everything I ever did, and loved me unconditionally, lifeless on the floor of the ranch house. I had to make some painful phone calls home and then make the seven-hour drive back to Orange.
Just as I left the ranch gates around 10 p.m., I came within a couple of feet of hitting a big boar javelina. Something about the animal seemed surreal, almost like I saw it in a strange 3-D projection.
As I drove down the lonely highway in my Dad’s truck, realizing I would never get to hunt or fish with him again, I cried in mourning for the man behind many of my successes in life.
Then I started praying.
“Lord, could you please send me a sign from Dad, a sign from you that He is alright?”
I knew without question where He was, but at that moment, not much seemed real. My life suddenly seemed like a terrible dream. And then it hit me.
I asked if he could hear me, and he blinked his eyes.
The javelina.
The javelina was my sign.
Our last conversation was about a lone javelina and how God used it to confirm that He made the right decision. Now it made sense why I got such a close look at the creature and why something about it seemed different.
I believe the javelina was heaven-sent.
That encounter boosted me to make the four-hour drive to an area where friends would meet me and take over the rest of the three hours.
I didn’t want to deer hunt for a couple of years after Dad passed away. I would duck hunt but shied away from deer hunting because that was the thing we shared so much together.
But that changed after I realized he would love to be deer hunting with me out there.
Since Dad passed away so close to Christmas, the holiday is always a reminder of his passing. But we have chosen it to be a reminder of a well-lived life and a man who brought us happiness.
Many of us who love the great outdoors have lost people, and this time of year, it can quickly turn to depression.
Choose to turn it into a celebration, and remember the reason for this season can bring you peace beyond understanding. I cried out to Him in deceleration for a sign on that sorrowful night, and He answered.
The world is going wild, and things can look grim, but focus on the good things in life.
Remember the incredible whitetails you hunt, the ducks you doggedly pursue, and the bighorns and elk you dream of.
Spend time with those you love, and always reach out to others who might be struggling this time of year.
Trust me, even after grief strikes, things can get better, and there’s no better place to feel that than in the great outdoors.
Give yourself the gift of the outdoors this year and share it with others. I had to take a long drive to get back to the place I could enjoy Christmas and I know you can do it as well.
You can change lives for the better by helping others hunt, fish, and enjoy nature, and you will honor those outdoors lovers who have fallen in the process.
Merry Christmas!
Chester Moore
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loved the article.