The First Snow!

We have finally had our first significant snow here in Montana this year. And it was a big one! We probably got about a foot of snow Sunday and Monday. Its beautiful. The evergreen trees covered in snow are my favorites. Sometimes I feel like I live in Narnia. I feel blessed to live in such a beautiful part of God's creation where He shows us his splendor in so many ways.
We couldn't let the first snow pass by without sledding, so we went out after school for just a few minutes and played. Scout still loves chasing the sleds down the hill but won't have anything to do with actually getting on the sled. He picked up a new game this year though- Catch the snowballs in your mouth. He is a funny dog.

Anyway, we didn't bother digging our car out this morning, and we probably won't for awhile. (Why didn't we put it in the garage? Good question. I was wondering the same thing myself when I realized I needed it this afternoon.) We only have one more day of school this week, and then its Thanksgiving Break!

With all of this snow, we are getting even more excited about Christmas. I think we are getting more excited this year because we are actually hosting Christmas for my family. We are also glad that we don't have to spend our whole vacation traveling, which can be exhausting.

Love the Poor

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about what it means to love others like Jesus loves them. I am teaching a junior high girls class at church and we are studying a book called Being a Girl Who Loves. I'm sure I'm learning as much as the girls are, if not more. One topic that I have been considering the last few days is loving the poor and what that means for us today. Jesus told us to love the poor. I think we (by we I mean I) tend to replace that word love with judge. We feel it is our job to judge whether or not they have a worthy reason for being poor, and then based on that judgment we decide if we can love them or not. John and I frequently drive to Missoula on the weekends. Every time we go there is a man standing on the corner in front of Wal-Mart with a sign asking for money. Every week we drive by and I judge him, thinking he should just get a job. Maybe he should just get a job, but Jesus says love him, he doesn't say judge him. In Marion we lived across the street from a group of guys we were honestly scared of. Being a young woman, I was afraid to be at home alone. I was judging them. Maybe I was correct in my judgments, but that is not what I was supposed to be doing; I was to be loving. Occasionally these men would come over to use our phone, and once they asked for money. One particular man John really was able to establish a relationship with. He started coming over to borrow the phone, and then he would stay and talk. This happened often when I was not even home. John played his guitar for him and he loved it. He played worship music, and sometimes the man asked for prayer and John was able to pray for him. I think that this is what it means to love the poor, but considering we lived there for a year we did very little loving of these men. I only know the name of the one man who frequented our house. I never took the time to meet any of the other men, or even the random kids who played in the yard. What an opportunity we had. Its not like we didn't do anything, but I just keep thinking of how much more we could have loved these people. I also keep thinking that if I were to move back to the same apartment, I probably still wouldn't do anything. How hard it can be to love strangers, escecially strangers who are so different from us. I have a hard time leaving my comfort zone, but yet that is exactly what we are called to do.

Hunting in Montana

Heather and I were debating whether or not to go hunting this year. Neither of us have ever been hunting before, and I have to admit that I was a little hesitant about the whole idea. Many of you know that the ranch where we work gets a lot of its meat from hunting. During the first week of hunting in Montana we do not have school, and the kids go out with their housedads and other staff. Heather and I decided to get tags for deer because deer tags are less than $20, and that is a cheap alternative to beef.
We went hunting one day with some of the staff from the ranch and a couple of the kids, but we saw very few deer and non that were close enough to take a shot at. Later that same week, we were going to visit a friend of ours in north-central Montana. Her dad owns a 4,000 acre ranch, so we thought this would be a great place to hunt. Central and Eastern Montana is so different than the Western part in which we live. Our friend's ranch was flat and desolate, with very few trees. Deer are more prevalent in this part of the state and since there are few trees it is easier to spot game.
On Saturday we went out shortly after daylight, and we spotted deer within the first hour. We really couldn't get very close, so we kept looking. We spotted a couple of does that were close enough that I could have probably taken a shot. I had the gun on one of them, but just didn't think I could hit it from that distance. We got back in the truck and drove some more until we spotted a herd of deer. There were probably ten deer and one of them was a nice size buck. I told Heather that she should take the shot since I chickened-out on my shot. We made it close enough and she took a shot at the buck. All of the deer except for the buck ran off, which I thought was weird but he wasn't acting like he was hit. She fired two more times but missed. She told me to try, so I shot several more times. He had been laying down but got up at this point and started to run away from us. We followed him for about a quarter of a mile, I shot again, and missed. At this point you are probably realizing how bad of shots we were. The next couples hours were spent following the buck. We would get close to him and then we would keep moving away from us. I knew that if I couldn't hit him laying down, I probably shouldn't try to hit him running. Our friend was with us and was becoming just as frustrated as we were. We felt we couldn't less this large buck just get away. Also, we kind of thought that I had hit it because I could see something that looked like blood on its mouth.
We had walked so far from the truck that our friend decided to go get it and we would keep following the deer. At one point, we met up with some hunters at a road that the deer had crossed, and they said that the deer had definitely been shot. The red that I saw on its face was blood because somehow I had managed to shoot it in the face. Yeah, I know. Who shoots a deer in the face? We followed the deer, and I was able to take two more shots that could have hit it but it certainly didn't drop. We drove around the field that it was in and finally got within 50 yards of the deer. I chambered a round and brought down the buck. The last shot I took definitely did the trick and it was pretty much dead when I approached it. At this point, we were able to see just how many of our shots actually hit the deer. I had hit it in the jaw, across the front of the leg, and then the finally kill shot. I felt horrible about this entire process. I wanted to kill the deer with one quick shot so it wouldn't suffer, but it certainly didn't happen that way. At this point, I think Heather and I had no desire to go hunting again. We were able to get the deer field dressed with the help of our friend's dad, which was a interesting and probably too graphic for this blog. The buck was a pretty good size mule deer, and he had a 4 X 3 rack. This meant a total of seven points, three on one side and four on the other.
Maybe the funniest part of this whole trip was that we took our four door car with us, so that is how we got it home. I didn't like the idea of putting it in our trunk, so we wrapped it in a tarp that I had and put it on the top of the trunk. It was extremely red-neck and definitely turned some heads on the five hour drive home. Some hunters at a gas station commented on the nice size of the deer, but I bet they were crack jokes the rest of the day about the deer strapped to the back of our car.
After all of this, Heather doesn't have any desire to fill her tag this year. We had the deer butchered here at the ranch, since there were several other deer being processed. We were able to quite a bit of meat from the deer. I don't know if I will ever hunt again. It will need to go a lot smoother if I do. I would love to get an elk since they taste amazing and the tags are just a couple more dollars than a deer tag.