Knowing When Not to Take Your Shot

Posted on Jul 07, 2020 Topic : Men's Christian Living
Posted by : David Holder

I’ve learned over the years that it’s far better to not take a poor shot than risk making a bad shot. I would rather miss an opportunity to harvest an animal than take a chance on possibly wounding it.

I think the real question is, why take those risky shots in the first place? Could it be that in your mind, the moment you’ve been dreaming of is finally here and you can’t let it pass? That all the hard work, persistence, and sacrifice are about to pay off in one glorious moment as you watch your prey fall to the ground? When that moment comes, will you take the shot and hope for the best, or will you do what’s in the best interest of the animal by not risking injury?

One day, my buddy and I were having a horrible time getting just one of the 20 or 30 bulls in a large herd of elk to come our way. The thing that still stands out most is the sheer number of elk that were packed into the small meadow. We sat there in awe of what we were witnessing, I felt that we had come to do more than just watch.

As the sun began to rise, the huge herd had diminished to only a few animals. Not a single bull paid any attention to my best calling. We needed to lure a bull away from the big herd.

In desperation, I suggested that we slip around to the southern side of the herd, which would keep the wind in our favor. I felt that somehow getting closer to the animals might be a way to get a bull’s attention. It really was now or never on this hunt.

We hadn’t made it very far when a nearby bugling bull stopped us in our tracks. I hit a cow call, and once again, the bull screamed back. He was right in front of us! I remained motionless, contemplating what I should do next. The bull I wanted to shoot was standing in such a way that his thick shoulder blocked his vitals. Even at 15 yards, I knew I didn’t have a high percentage shot. At that moment, I did what a lot of hunters do: I tried talking myself into a shot that I knew was impossible.

I touched the trigger on my release and watched the arrow travel less than 10 yards. I hit the elk exactly where I was aiming. But my excitement quickly disappeared as we watched the three elk run up the ridge directly across from us. I could see the fletching sticking out of the wounded bull, the arrow hadn’t passed through, and I had only injured an otherwise healthy animal. I can still taste the bitterness of my stupid decision that day.

The last time I saw that elk was about one minute later as he topped the ridge and descended into the valley out of sight. The bull wasn’t the only one who felt stabbed in the gut. The elk didn’t deserve that kind of treatment, and I almost quit bowhunting after that. I remember saying to myself, If you can’t control your actions any better than that, then you don’t deserve to be in the woods with a weapon in your hand.

Begin to see yourself living at full draw, when your bow is pulled back and you are about to release an arrow at life, marriage, and parenting. If something feels off, don’t do what I have done and risk a bad shot. Don’t be afraid to “let down.” You will be glad you did. God will lead you to other adventures, and this time when you shoot, your arrow will find its perfect mark. You too can go from “let it fly” to “let it down.”