One day I went turkey hunting and encountered every turkey hunter’s worst nightmare, a foggy morning. Gobblers don’t gobble much on those mornings; they prefer to just sit up high in a tree where they roost and sleep half the day until it burns off. I was sitting there disgusted and uncomfortable as all get out with my butt and legs going numb when several turkey hens flew down right in front of me.
I tried to remain motionless as they walked up and looked at one of my decoys, but at that precise moment, I developed an itch that simply had to be scratched. I thought, what the heck these are just hens, and I slowly lifted my hand to scratch my head, but sure enough one of the hens saw me and loudly sounded the alarm. They all took off running, putting, squawking, and screaming as loud as they could in a mean-spirited effort to alert every other turkey within a mile that danger was present.
Disgusted, I gathered up my stuff and left. (Mind you I’m not the quitting type, and I didn’t quit hunting for the day, I merely left to go to a new location.) I decided to take up my new position about two miles away where I’d recently seen some big toms.
When I got there, I sat down next to some bushes off the side of the road and let out a couple of seductive yelps and purrs on my turkey call. Instantly two hens appeared on the road walking right towards me with four big gobblers hot on the trail behind them; they were in full pursuit and the gobblers were alternating going in and out of full strut mode.
I was trying to decide if any of them was a worthwhile enough trophy to blast when I happened to notice movement out of the corner of my eye.
Yikes!
A monster gobbler was approaching the scene from behind me. He was coming down that road proudly lumbering along; he had a paintbrush size beard and long hooked spurs. He was big, he was bad, and he knew it. He was styling and profiling in full strut and at one point came no more than 3 feet from me on my left side. My heart was racing as I sat motionless. This was a super nice trophy, but unfortunately, I couldn’t get a shot because a bush was between him and me. As he exited from behind the bush, he immediately walked behind a pine tree.
I gently raised my gun and was prepared to hammer him when he emerged, but when he came out from behind the tree, he suddenly charged those other gobblers with fierce and reckless abandon. He went after one particular Tom and was chasing him all over the place directly in front of me and it was difficult to get a clear shot. They were all squawking and flapping their big wings and jumping around. I tried to get them to stop and look at me by calling as loudly as I could muster, even sounding the alarm call, but it was to no avail. They were in full combat mode and determined to fight it out to the death, and they ignored my loud calls to them without so much as one of them, including the hens, even looking my way.
Finally, that big gobbler stuck his head out ahead of him as he chased the other Tom and I shot and he fell. I breathed a victorious sigh of relief, but as soon as I stood up to go retrieve him, he got up and took off running.
What the . . .
I shot him again and he fell again.
Whew! That old bird was tough. Yet again as I started walking towards him, incredibly he took off again.
Egad! Is this bird on steroids or what?
I shot him a third time and bowled him over again.
You guessed it; amazingly he got up and ran again, only this time I was out of shotgun shells. He ran directly into some briars that were eight feet high and nastier and thicker than 400 hells. I tried wading in after him, but it was so thick I couldn’t find him or any sign of him.
Meanwhile, swarms of mosquitoes had begun to attack me. I was swatting away at them as I ran back toward where I’d been sitting to retrieve my Thermo-Cell mosquito repellent device. It was mainly a psychological move because even after I retrieved it, the mosquitoes were still attacking me like swarms of hungry vampires. I even held the Thermo-Cell right under my chin as I advanced back to the briars, and it seemed more like an attractant than a repellent. They were as tough as the turkey.
I knew my turkey was mortally wounded, but I had no idea where he might be. As I stood there trying to decide how to find him, I heard him flapping his wings somewhere in the middle of the briar patch. I estimated that he was dead center.
Great! I muttered . . .
I gritted my teeth and advanced forward using my expensive shotgun to try and beat back the briars. My arms were bloody, which further incited what amounted to a full feeding frenzy of mosquitoes. I finally managed to cover the ten yards or so into the middle of the wicked briar patch and behold I saw the turkey lying there. I then had to get down on my hands and knees, (yes it was painful), and eventually even belly crawl through the last couple of yards or so through the thickest sharpest briars you can imagine, (it reminded me of why I quit hog hunting).
The sharp briars ripped my arms, hands, and neck to shreds, and it’s a wonder that my clothes weren’t torn off too. Finally, I was within a mere yard of that sucker, but by now I was getting dehydrated from the Florida sun and I felt as though I was having a heat stroke. In fact, I would have gladly given $1,000 for a cup of cold water, but success was within reach, and I was determined that I would recover that turkey or die alongside him.
I reached for him. Yeow!!! When I tried to grab his legs to drag him out, he started kicking and flapping those big wings and his razor-sharp spurs cut into my hands and fingers. I gritted my teeth and held on for all I could; I may have been injured, but I wasn’t coming out of that briar patch without that turkey, my clothes might get torn off, I might get Lyme disease from ticks, itch forever with redbugs, get bitten by a rattler, get the Nile virus from the mosquitoes, or bleed out from being hooked by those sharp spurs, but I would be frying that bad boy’s breast up for supper tonight.
I muttered to myself – I ain’t quitting!
Finally, I managed to drag him out of the briars and into the road, and at last he quit jerking around and flapping me on the head with those powerful wings. Sweet success was mine, and yes it felt good…Mission accomplished!
The next day, (Saturday), I took a local doctor friend and his daughter, turkey hunting. We encountered fog, and then thunder, lightning, and rain. I suggested that the turkeys would go to the middle of the fields during the rainstorms, and we headed for them. We immediately spotted several, but they saw us too, and took off running. By now it was getting on up in the day; we were drenched, tired, and getting hungry. I tried to convince him to try one more field; he said his wife was gonna kill them if they got home late, but I valiantly argued my case for giving it one last try and he reluctantly agreed. I drove about two miles to another location and spotted yet another big tom. This time he didn’t see us, and he was alone and looking for hens.
Bingo!
After the hunt, the doctor remarked that his daughter told him that I really seemed determined to get a turkey for her no matter what and just would not give up. I just smiled and remarked, “I don’t know why but I just never seem to want to quit, and I hate losing”.
I think that is how Jesus wants us to face life. We should never give up hope and simply must keep fighting through the trials and the tribulations of this fallen world with fierce reckless abandon until “the last turkey and/or dog dies”.
Yes, we will face adversity, yes, we will feel pain, yes we will get tired, and thirsty, and hungry, and frustrated, cut, scratched, bruised, and swollen, but we must fight on to win. Anyone can quit and be a loser, but winners don’t give up. They persevere and give it their all and their best every time.
The victory for Jesus will not come easy or without a price in this wicked-wicked world. Standing up for him in this society that is getting eviler by the day is not going to get any easier. In fact, the Bible tells us that it will be tough and get tougher towards the Last Days which I believe we are seeing now., but it can and must be done. Whatever trials you face today, remember this little episode of the turkeys and fight on and on and on and on…and on. I assure you sweet success will be yours . . .
1 Cor. 9:24
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.