The Resilient Prayer: Because, Why Not?

Years ago, I went to see a psychic. She told me that I had a dog and a man following me around. I told her I had no idea what she was talking about. She said that the man was telling her that he died before his time, and at his own hand in a violent manner. I told her I had no idea of a person of that description.

When I got home, I remembered Scott and his fateful last hunting season.

One day, I bought a dune buggy. A different friend was getting a divorce, and he was selling it to pay the lawyer’s bill. I’d had one as a kid – a white one. I’d tied a rope to the bumper and the other end around my waist so it had to follow me everywhere I went.

When I parked this full-sized orange one on the front porch, my boyfriend’s mom said, “I don’t know who bought it, but I know someone wasted a lot of money.”

I couldn’t park my dune buggy on the porch over the winter, so Scott was hired to widen the door on the shed. He came over, bringing his son. Scott and I sat on the porch and watched his son work. I think he wasn’t yet ten.

When I had to move out because of a promotion, I sold that buggy, too. I bought it for $9,000 and sold it for $11,000, without spending a cent. My insurance was free because we were still trying to determine its value, and in the end, it didn’t matter; I never needed it. Nor had I changed the oil, and my boyfriend paid for the gas.

Wasting money isn’t something I do.

For Better or Worse

Neither will divorce be a thing I do – it requires being married first – and I can’t seem to manage that.

The morning after I dreamt about my old friend embodying the advice I knew was right, I heard from him, after a six-year silence. What a strange serendipity and a pleasant surprise.

But the day was just getting started.

After a quick trip home, leaving the parking lot, a truck pulled in, and my boyfriend unrolled his window. (Yes, it’s a hand-crank window; it’s also a manual transmission, if you know what that is.)

“Look at this,” the driver of the other truck said, holding up his phone for a show-and-tell. “I never thought I’d take a six-pointer to the taxidermist, but there it is.”

It was a massive, beautiful buck. I said a prayer for my own.

Back on the highway, I asked, “Who was that?”

A name was provided, and I responded, “I’ll never remember that name.”

“Scott’s son,” he said.

I was shocked, suddenly realizing all the time that had passed. A little boy was now using the full-grown version of his name.

Scott’s last words to my boyfriend were, “52 is too old to start over.”

He’d had a hunting camp, workshop, and home, and with four words, it was about to be divided in half.

Instead, Scott chose a different future. I couldn’t go to his funeral, so I planted black tulips in my yard instead.

I’m now 52, and I still will be in the spring.

But that’s not all for oddball events.

With all this serendipity, I suddenly felt positive that my prayers would be answered.

Back in my ground blind, waiting for a buck to come by, I reached out in silent to prayer.

Asking Your Angels

My prayer was, “Hey Scott, if you want to hunt again, you can join me. Push me a buck and I’ll shoot it. Hey Lenly, I never met you, but I’m holding your gun, and it’s ready to go again. I’d appreciate your support, company, and help. Hey Harvey, I remember you, and I thought your camo casket was so perfect for you. If you want to join me, I’m at the top of the hill by the camp. I know you know where that is. Hey Gord, I’ve never met you, but I live in the house you built, and I know you know that spot, too. I’m inviting you to my hunting party too. By the way, I know there are beds for 18, and I don’t know any more names, but if you do, feel free to bring a friend.”

I didn’t wait in the cold very long before my prayer was answered.

With twenty minutes of legal shooting left in the day, I saw a deer come walking in. At first, I thought it was a doe, and I was going to let it go to repopulate the herd. But, when he came closer for a carrot, I spied at least one antler and waited for him to take another step.

One antler is enough. It’s a perfect choice for someone who isn’t filling the trophy room but the freezer.

“Me,” I texted to my boyfriend.

“Get him?” he replied.

“I go looking,” I responded, hands shaking too violently to get the grammar right.

As soon as I exited and stood up, I could see him. However, another hunter told me about a time when they were talking pictures with their harvest, only to witness the deer stand up, shake it off, and run away. Maybe I’d just stunned him.

For the Good of Everyone

Instead, I quickly saw that there’d be no point hunting here again for a few days, or at least a heavy rain.

While I stood near my harvest, waiting for the trailer, the quickening set in. I know, actually, that it was just adrenaline coursing through my body, but after watching Highlander, I preferred to think of it as the quickening – the buck’s spirit entering my body and merging with mine. My legs shook, and I wasn’t sure I could remain standing, let alone heave this beast into the trailer.

After photos were taken, I was happy to have someone to tell. To brag, actually, should truth be told. To reintroduce myself after six years of personal transformation.

In fact, my bullet cut the heart in two. It was quick, but likely not painless. Pure heartbreak.

The next morning at breakfast, I told my partner how I pray, and he wanted to try it. We called on all the hunters who used to hunt there whom I’d never met, and have since passed, and invited them to come hunting. He even knew some dogs who might want to chase again.

As mentioned, there was no point in going to my ground blind when there was blood spatter there. Since my additional blinds had never come to fruition, after breakfast then, I went scouting. I hadn’t made it very far when I heard a shot ring out.

I texted, “You. Did you get him?”

Silence.

I waited.

I texted, “R U ok?”

Silence.

I texted, “Answer or I’m coming.”

Silence.

I headed off in his direction, worried my heart might break if my first impression were to be true. This place really needs better cellular service – I wouldn’t entertain the thought of anything else.

The worst thought was that he must have dropped his gun and shot himself. I’d never heard of anyone getting a deer at nine in the morning, and he would have just gotten to his stand when I heard the shot.

Hunting accidents happen. But these were thoughts I didn’t want to entertain, so I shut them out with other explanations.

Almost there, I finally heard his four-wheeler.

“Getting the trailer?” I asked.

He nodded, and I told him I’d meet him at his harvest.

Just like my first year, I got a three-pointer, and he got an eight.

The next day, he said, “Wow, that worked so fast. Let’s try it for dad.”

We did, only to find out that was the day he wasn’t coming. He was off for another scan.

“Another scan? How many do they need already?”

“Well, they are wondering where it went. They can’t seem to find it.”

I laughed hard and long, revelling in a miracle.

I’d had a plan. A deal with The Universe. I’ll kick out the people in the camp that have prevented him from hunting in his own hunting camp, and you’ll kick out the cancer. I know spontaneous remission is possible, and now I’m requesting it. Whomever it takes. I called on many angels.

I did my end of the deal.

That day, I’d decided to loiter in a few lucky spots before deciding to check out the activity where Dad would have been. At four o’clock, I decided I might as well sit in his stand, where I’d started my hunting life twenty years ago.

A Thunderous Immediate Arrival

Six minutes later, I heard crashing. As far as I knew, the loudest thing in the bush are squirrels and chipmunks. They run through the leaves, causing quite a stir, but deer show up and leave soundlessly. Behind my back sounded like a gang of squirrels, but I wouldn’t be able to see until they passed, due to a solid wall behind me.

Out my right window, I saw two does, tails up, running at full speed. Right behind them, the massive ten-point buck seen on game cams but not in daylight. The two does split, and he stopped for a second, seemingly deciding which one to follow. It was one second for a shot, but I take about ten seconds.

Dad, though, he’s an awesome shot, a hero of a hunter. His record for the shortest season is twelve minutes. This was his moment, his deer, but I was the one sitting there. I hadn’t even raised my weapon or taken a breath.

That’s fine with me. I want him to catch those does and continue that line.

“Wow, that trick worked for Dad, too. Pulled along by two does. Too bad he missed it,” my boyfriend said.

Yeah, it’s too bad that I think you can only ask once. What will we do next time? For there will be a next time – I still have a tag to fill.

In the merry-go-round of tags, I put my boyfriend’s on mine, Dad put his on my boyfriend’s, and although I got First Buck and all the money that went with it from the previous year, I still have an unfilled tag, and it’s Dad who should be the one to fill it.

So, Dad and I must go hunting. Must? It’s a privilege.

Paying it Forward

Maybe it will only take a dozen minutes. On the way, I’ll buy him a coffee with cream.

When I’d taken Dad, my fairy godfather, to one appointment, I’d bought him a coffee.

“Mmmmm, that’s good,” he said. “I put cream in it,” he volunteered with a wicked grin.

“You don’t have cream at home?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No room in the fridge,” he explained.

I did my best poker face, but I needn’t worry as his eyes were closed in the blissful enjoyment of his creamed coffee.

Sometimes joy and happiness are much easier to give to someone than you might think. As we head into this holiday season, put empathy into it.

Don’t shop to impress your ego, don’t give the gifts that show off what you can afford or your personal tastes. Step into the life and experience of that person on your list and use all of your empathy to figure out what would put a blissful smile on their face.

The worst advice I ever got was, “Give them what you would want to receive.”

Give them what they want. Especially if they have the money to get it for themselves and for some reason, aren’t doing it. It might be so much better for everyone.

My prayer for you is that you have an affordable, fulfilling, and heart-warming holiday season so we can all start the new year with abundance, joy, and peace.

In my experience, the more it brings, the easier it is to answer your prayer. If there are drawbacks for anyone, perhaps that’s why. Think of it as the opposition in the sky, and the power is in perfect balance. Why not try modifying your prayer accordingly?

For the Universal Benefit

While you are pursuing one path and making progress, you don’t want to lose the success that you’ve had in other areas. You don’t want to re-gain the weight you just lost when you finally sit down and write that novel you have in mind. The way to sustain progress while going after new and tough goals is to connect systems.

To integrate, not to have to pick one thing over another. More than ever, we need those who know how to take two things and merge them without losing any of the individual pieces.

Integrate and combine, instead of separate and define. Merge. Leverage. Multi-task by stacking and pairing things that naturally go together.

You’ve figured out by now that accomplishing goals means doing something over and over again until you get there. If it were easier to achieve, everyone would be happy, wealthy, and fulfilled. 

Don’t send a prayer – make it easy to have them granted. Do the work, show up when it matters, listen to the messages, and choose power over control. If it’s for the universal benefit, it might be a snap to grant them.

Then, share the wealth, the product of your wish granted and how you connect the dots to how others can do it too. What have you learned through your experiences that might help others live a more peaceful, meaningful, more empowered life?

Living is learning, and this is the school of life. As along as you are alive, you have the ability to change. Didn’t like it? Change the why, and it will never happen again. Love it? Find out why, and be prepared to discover a cobweb of insight that other people need to know.

In engineering, we call it root cause analysis.