January 2005

Kristina and I have hunted elk with bow and arrow since 1994. We camp on a ridge under beautiful pine trees in late September and hike through the forest where Geronimo and the Apaches hid out from the cavalry. Bow hunting is an adventure. Our hunt in 2003 not only got my adrenaline going, it impacted our family. I have waited to tell this story for several reasons: some people hate hunting, others may think I’m crazy and our family dynamic was not settled. This is my story, abbreviated, but without embellishment.

      Our daughter Kathryn went to the University of San Francisco after she graduated from high school. She graduated with a 4.0 grade average and competed in four varsity sports during high school. She was in good shape as an athlete and a delight as a daughter. But Kathryn was in a battle that we didn’t understand. She compared herself to her brother and sister and felt like a failure. Then, during her freshman year at USF, she started to lose weight, a lot of weight.

      At first I joked about healing her with a few hamburgers, but her situation soon became serious. By the time she came home for the summer of 2003, her once strong arms and legs were emaciated. We talked with her, pleaded with her to eat, prayed for her and sent her to counseling.

      Kathryn was obsessed with food, but starving herself in order to control her impulses. Our efforts to connect with her brought frustration and caused her to withdraw from us further. Our hearts were breaking as we watched her suffer. It felt like she was dying before our eyes, but we couldn’t do anything to help her.

      Kristina and I went to counseling ourselves. We wanted to be part of Kathryn’s healing and make sure we weren’t making her problem worse. Your options are limited when the child you love has become an adult. The counselors confirmed we had to love her, pray for her and give up trying to control her. For someone who likes to solve problems, I was being tested big time. My ministry is a lot about telling people what steps to take to get their lives together. With Kathryn, whom I love so much, I had to speak less and trust God more.

      We were really worried about Kathryn when we left for our elk hunt that September. The last thing she said to me before we headed to the mountains was, “Don’t come home without one.” One of the only things Kathryn would eat that summer was elk. It is healthy meat and she really enjoys it.

      I felt like I was on a mission, not just to get an elk, but to save our daughter. For Indians, hunting was not sport, it was a matter of life and death. I tasted some of that intensity. When a father wants to save his child, he will do almost anything.

      Kristina and I drove up to the mountains and set up our hunt camp. As the first rays of sunlight shone through the trees, I stalked along the game trails, with prayers on my lips and a shadow on my soul.

      The elk have many advantages over the bow hunter. To shoot a bow with accuracy, you must be within forty-five yards of the animal. Elk can walk faster than we can run. They can see far better than man. They can hear the snap of a twig from a hundred yards. They can smell a person fifty yards away, even when no breeze is blowing. Elk often travel in herds to increase their safety, plus they have home court advantage—it is their forest and they know it well. I was frustrated as the hunt went on; they were eluding me and I could taste defeat.

        One morning as I walked along a trail, a hawk landed in a pine tree and stared down at me. I had never seen a hawk like it in this forest. As I watched it watching me, it occurred to me that this hawk had seen the elk herds as it had been flying around. I knew the Bible says man was given dominion over the animals, the birds and the fish, so I spoke up, “Hawk, you know where these elk are. Lead me to them, in Jesus name.”

      The hawk immediately glided off the tree and soared around the mountain to my right. “Why not follow him?” I thought. So I started hiking in the direction it flew, hoping that within a couple of miles I would see something. I went about two hundred yards when suddenly several elk stampeded through the trees. We scared each other. I hadn’t expect to see elk so soon.

      On two other occasions in the days that followed, I had similar experiences. I saw hawks land in trees, I whispered quiet commands and they led me to elk. However, finding the elk is one thing; getting close enough for a shot with a bow is a whole different matter.

      By the end of the week, our trip was ending. I had to get back to the church and had one last evening hunt left. That afternoon at our camp, I spread my tarp under a tree to spend some time with the Lord. I prayed for Kathryn and dedicated my elk to her. During my bible study I read, “If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea’, and it will obey you.” (Luke 17:6) It occurred to me that if a mulberry tree would obey us, surely an elk would obey us. I pondered this as I hiked along an overgrown logging road for the evening hunt.

      About three hundred yards ahead of me, a large bull elk came down the mountain and crossed over the overgrown road. I cautiously crept forward. The bull went across a meadow and began to bugle from the trees. I could see his huge body and I knew he would spot me and run if I tried to cross the meadow. I said, “Elk, come forth, in Jesus name.”

      After a couple of minutes, the elk crossed back over the meadow and slowly walked towards the tree I was hiding behind. My heart was thumping as it approached. At fifty yards, the big bull lifted his head and sniffed the air. He then turned abruptly and trotted off through the forest. My mind was racing. Did he respond to my command, or was that a fluke?

      I began to hike towards a canyon as the sun set. From far below, I could hear a bugling bull. “Come forth, bull, come forth in Jesus name.” I said while walking towards the canyon.

      Several hundred yards ahead of me, a bull emerged from the canyon, paused and trotted away. As I approached the canyon, a red tailed hawk glided overhead and perched in a pine tree. I stopped below the tree and said, “Hawk, lead me to the elk.” The hawk didn’t budge, so I waited. “Hawk, lead me to the elk, in Jesus name.” After ten minutes, I was getting restless. I began to wonder if I was stumbling into sorcery.

      “The Lord our God, the Lord is One,” came to my mind. He made the earth and everything in it. He rules over it all. I didn’t need to worry about theology. Just as I was walking away, the hawk lifted off the tree. I followed his flight path and soon heard two bugling bulls challenging each other.

I spotted one bull moving up a steep ridge, so I trailed it. As I neared the top I heard the crashing sound of colliding antlers from battling bulls. I hurried higher and broke through the trees just as one big bull was driving another off the top of the ridge. As the bulls crossed a clearing forty yards in front of me, I drew my bow and fired. One of them crashed to the ground. I notched another arrow and walked up. A huge bull was goring the one I shot. He thought that he had knocked him down. He stared at me with glazed eyes and then walked away. Before shooting a final arrow, I looked at the fallen bull and said, “You did not die in vain.”

      It was dark by the time I returned to camp. I hugged Kristina and began to weep. Hunting is exciting and exhausting. Killing a beautiful animal is sobering and gruesome. Being a faithful father to a young woman can be wonderful and heartbreaking. I was sleep deprived and depleted, but God had given me a gift. I now had hope that Kathryn would be healed.

       Later that night, Kristina was cleaning the elk as I held the lantern so she could see. Suddenly a vicious growl came from the bushes a few yards away. We saw the eyes of a hungry wolf trying to scare us away from the carcass. I yelled and rebuked it in the name of the Lord. I hit the panic button on our truck several times. But the wolf lurked in the shadows, waiting for the remains.

      It seems like there is always something that wants to bring fear in the face of victory and steal our joy. But this elk had been dedicated to Kathryn, we weren’t about to abandon it. In a couple of hours we had it packed into the truck. The next day we headed home.

      In the months that followed, Kathryn had a breakthrough. She saw her sister go through a difficult time and saw how people reached out and loved her. She began to rediscover the love and grace of God. She still has struggles, but the burden she carried has been lightened.  To our great delight, Kathryn slowly gained her weight back.

      In many ways, this is the story of my life. I spend much of my time hunting for spiritual food to feed our congregation. I study the Bible, hike through the desert, and pray at the park, with both thanksgiving and desperation. All the while, I’m looking for examples that will make the word of God come alive for those I serve. Some feed themselves quite well, but others are very particular. They want fresh stories of grace and truth. I want the people I love to be healthy and full of grace. I can’t make them eat, but I hunt for the best food God provides. That’s my job and I love it.

      Though I feel vulnerable and prefer to talk about our  triumphs, I share our trials because I believe that “walking in the light” brings healing to our lives. When we can share openly about who we are, it’s humbling, but it helps us to connect with each other. Humbling ourselves enables us to experience the grace of God. It can also help you to understand how to pray for us. We appreciate your prayers, because we need a lot of grace.

      May God bless you, as you hunt for grace and truth.