Dad, Let’s Pray!
One of the scariest experiences of my life happened on a snowy November night in the Catskill Mountains of New York. My husband, Jim, had gone hunting that afternoon. Though many local guys hunted for sport or for trophy mounts, Jim hunted for the meat. Raising four children on a missionary’s salary was not easy. A deer in the freezer went a long way to providing for our family.
Jim had been out several times over the past two weeks to no avail. Today was different. Just before dark, he’d shot a young buck with his compound bow. Quietly he eased out of the woods so the deer would lie down. After a couple of hours he would return, track it, bring it home, and prepare it for the freezer. Though he often did the tracking alone, on this night our twelve-year-old son, Jimmie, volunteered to help his dad. Not wanting to be left out, I decided to tag along.
We arrived at the spot where Jim had come out of the woods. We headed into the forest. I noticed right away that my nose hairs were freezing together as I breathed. Scattered patches of snow remained from a storm the week before, and the forecast called for heavy snow that night. The crunch of the frosty leaves reminded us how cold it was.
With thick cloud cover, our flashlights were our only source of light. I felt in the pocket of my heavy parka, making sure I had extra batteries. This cloudy night would not be a good time to run out of battery power.
Getting back to Jim’s tree stand was fairly easy. He had glued squares of reflective tape to thumbtacks and placed a tack on every few trees at eye level. It amazed me how the tacks glowed when the light hit them. We found the tree where his stand was perched high above the ground. Now came the tough part—tracking the deer.
As we headed away from the tree stand, we could make out the trail of the buck through the heavy underbrush. A wounded deer always heads for the thickest cover, hoping to hide from whatever hurt it.
Eyes to the ground, ears alert for any sounds, Jim led the way. The deeper we went into the thick undergrowth, the harder it became. Blackberry vines ripped at our clothes, and in places we had to get on our hands and knees to make it through heavy underbrush.
As we pushed deeper, the temperature dropped. Snowflakes began drifting through the circle of light cast by Jimmie’s flashlight. I asked Jim if we should turn around and head home.
“Just a little longer,” he said. “That buck can’t be too much farther.”
After another ten minutes passed, we decided we would not find the deer. The snow was beginning to fall faster as the wind picked up. Even in this dense part of the woods the ground was becoming a white carpet. Pulling our hoods tighter, we headed back the way we thought we had come. We had been walking about fifteen minutes when Jim suddenly stopped.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We have walked in a circle,” Jim said. “That’s the same stump at the spot where we decided to turn back. But don’t worry. I’ll get us out of here.”
Fifteen minutes later we still could not find the trail we had come in on. Snow had already covered the ground, making it impossible to see any signs of where we had been. The way Jimmie was walking told me that his feet were cold. His cheeks looked like candied apples and his lips were chapped. Why hadn’t I grabbed my lip balm and a scarf for him?
Jim stopped, pulling us into his arms.
“Guys, I don’t know how to get us out of here. It’s hard to see with just our flashlights, and I left the compass in the truck. The temperature is dropping so fast, and between the wind and heavy snow I can’t get my bearings. We will have to find a thicket to crawl into, and hopefully, if we stay close to each other we can keep warm enough to make it until morning. I am so sorry I let you come. I know you are scared. I just don’t know what to do.”
Sometimes as we raise our children we wonder if they are grasping anything we are trying to teach them. That night we learned that our son had indeed been listening. We had always taught our children the importance of walking close to God. We also taught them that our God is gracious and loving and answers our prayers. They had seen many prayers answered during the years when we were in Bible college and in our time as missionaries. So on this cold November night, when his dad was at a loss as to what to do, our son said in a shaky voice, “Dad, let’s pray!”
This was an earnest plea from a child who believed that we faced a dilemma and that the God we worshiped would hear and answer. To him it was simple: We were in a fix and we needed to pray.
So there in the middle of the dark, ghostly woods, with the wind whistling through the trees and huge snowflakes falling around us, we knelt, joined hands, and lifted our faces heavenward.
“Lord,” Jim prayed, “we need your help, and we could sure use it now. Show us the way out. We praise you for what you are going to do. Amen.”
It was a simple prayer, but as the snowflakes melted on our faces, we felt a sense of peace. Surely the Lord was in this place. Jeremiah 33:3 came to mind: “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.” We were certainly trusting in that verse.
Only a couple of minutes later Jimmie shouted, “Dad, do you hear it?”
“Hear what, son?”
“I hear a car!”
We strained to hear something besides the wind whipping the bare tree branches, and sure enough, we all heard the unmistakable hum of an engine. We only heard it for a few seconds, but that was enough. Jim led us toward where the sound had come from. Within half an hour the woods thinned out, and we soon stepped onto the snow-covered road.
We made it out with only numb fingers, toes, and noses. To our amazement, we looked down the road and saw that we had emerged from the woods about fifty yards from our truck. What a wonderful sight!
After offering a prayer of thanksgiving for deliverance from what could have been a deadly situation, we headed to the truck and home. We were thankful for the faith of a child—faith not only in his earthly father but also in his heavenly Father. We also knew we would be more prepared the next time we ventured into the woods.
Some might say it was sure lucky we heard that vehicle. I don’t think it was luck at all. We’d heard no sound from cars or trucks traveling that road before our time of prayer. I believe God answered our prayer by sending a vehicle down that snow-covered road just when we needed to hear a sound to lead us home. When God’s children cry out to Him for help, He is quick to respond. We were all reminded that there is power in prayer.
And who knows? Maybe one of our guardian angels was driving that car.