Can't Get My Shot Back

I got a story about a hunt that didn’t hand out ribbons… but sure handed out a lesson or two.

A few years back, me and a couple buddies got invited to what they call a “one box hunt.” Now that sounds simple enough, but there’s a twist to it that’ll humble a man quick. Three guys to a team, 25 shells total, and 30 minutes in a field stocked with quail. And here’s the kicker… you get bonus points for shells you don’t shoot.

Well now, that right there already put us at a disadvantage. Because we love dogs… but based on our shooting, we accidentally practice conservation. Only fellas I know that could turn quail hunting into catch-and-release. I once even had a man tell me who was watching me shoot that if he were the bird he would stay still cause if he flew he might run into a shot by accident.

We stood there watching the other teams go before us. Smooth. Controlled. Looked like they knew what they were doing. We nodded like we did too… fake it till' you make mentality. Then it was our turn. We had a plan. Oh, it was a good plan too. Spread out, work the field, take clean shots. Each of us had about 8 shells… one fella got 9 like he was the high-capacity specialist. Didn’t take long. Dogs locked up on point, tails stiff, eyes burning through that cover. We eased in, flushed that first bird…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Three shots later… one quail. Now I’m not saying all three of us hit that same bird… but I’m not not saying it either.

We moved on, tried to regain a little dignity. Next bird comes up, and I got so excited I shot about where I thought the bird might eventually be. Missed clean. Had to settle down and hit it with the second shot. And that right there became our rhythm… if you want to call it that.

Excitement first. Aim second.

By the time that 30 minutes was up… well, it didn’t take 30 minutes. We were out of shells in about 15 minutes and had to quit. Standing there like three kids who spent their ice cream money before break.

No ribbons. No trophies. But I’ll tell you what we did walk away with… a truckload of humility.

And sitting on that tailgate later, watching others destroy our score it came to me.

Taking a shot matters… but aiming matters just as much.

And that’s when my mind went to something a whole lot more important than quail. The tongue. The Bible doesn’t treat the tongue like it’s some small, harmless thing. No, it says in James 3:5: “Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!” Just a few verses before that, it says it’s like a bit in a horse’s mouth… or a rudder on a ship. Small… but it steers the whole thing. That means this little thing in our mouth can direct relationships, shape lives, build up… or burn down.

Now here’s where it hits close. A lot of times, we talk just like we shot that day. Quick, reactive, and trigger-happy. We fire off words out of emotion… out of excitement… out of frustration… without ever really aiming them. Just like those shells… once they leave, you don’t get them back. There’s no walking out in the field and picking that shot back up.

That’s why the Bible gives us a little hunting advice for life in James 1:19: “Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.” In other words… don’t just pull the trigger because something flushed.

Take aim.

Be slow.

Because once those words are out, they’ve already done something… whether you meant them to or not.

 Even when you apologize… and you should… there is still damage from those fired shots even some you can’t reach.

That’s why Proverbs 18:21 says: “Death and life are in the power of the tongue…”

 Not irritation, but Life… and death. That’s serious weight for something we use so casually.

Here’s one that’ll make you chuckle a little if you’ve ever stuck your foot in your mouth: Proverbs 17:28 says, “Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise…”

There it is. Sometimes the wisest thing you can say… is nothing at all. I’ve had moments where if I’d just kept my mouth shut, people might’ve thought I was deep. Instead, I opened it and removed all doubt of my Cracker Barrel title: Ig-no-ram-ous.

 That’s why God set it up the way He did. Two ears. One mouth. That ain’t an accident. That’s instruction. Listen twice as much as you talk. Aim before you shoot.

Because words, once spoken, don’t come back to the chamber. They land somewhere. They hit something. They leave a mark.

So maybe the next time something rises up in you… anger, excitement, frustration… and you feel that trigger finger itching…

Just pause a second.

Line it up.

Ask yourself… is this going to hit what I intend it to hit? Or am I about to waste a shell… and maybe wound something I didn’t mean to?

Because a well-aimed word can heal, encourage, and point somebody to Christ.

But a careless one… can do damage that lingers long after the echo of the shot fades.

I think I would rather not fire off an emotional shot than try to undo my careless decision. I’d just as soon start hitting what I’m aiming at.