The Feet Of A Deer

In the wee hours of the night, before first light, I hear a calling from the woods. It is different from the menagerie of birds we normally hear. So different that it wakes me out of my light, early morning sleep. When I rise I try to spot the creature, but it is too difficult to determine exactly where the sound comes from. The woods play tricks with my hearing. Unless I am outdoors, it takes some work to to determine the origin of such sounds.

A little later, while driving up towards towards the gate, I spot deer next to our neighbors' fence. 

"Slow down!" I cry, and  National Asset, my kindred spirit, complies. After three years of Sanctuary life I have not yet tired of observing the animals with whom we share the woods. The Prius coasts silently to a stop. 

"Oh, there's a baby!" A doe and her fawn are pacing back and forth, back and forth, right next to the fence. We inch up the driveway, trying not to spook them. 

Then we spot a third deer, a tiny speckled baby, on the other side of the fence. This exquisite little creature is up on wobbly legs emitting the cries I had been hearing. It is much too small to get back over the fence to its mama. Naturally, I want to help.

"Maybe if Miles opens his driveway gate we can herd it around back towards the mother," I suggest. I whip out my cell phone and call the neighbor. He comes outdoors and opens the electric gate. We park the Prius and walk through. 

"We can't pick it up," Miles says. I nod in agreement.

"Can we aim it towards the gate?" I ask.

"Maybe," he says.

The three of us spread out and try to herd the little one towards the opening and its mother. But, of course, Bambi realizes Man is in the forest!! and bolts. A Blacktail fawn can stand ten minutes after birth, and walk in seven hours. We have no idea when this one was born, but before my very own eyes I watch the wobbly-legged baby morph into an incredibly graceful, fast running critter. Our neighbor's fenced-in property is not a small place, but this little guy bounds from end to end, searching for a way out, without breaking a sweat. There is no way we are going to be able to herd him anywhere.

In our well-meaning attempts to extricate the little one, we forget one very important thing: the Mother Factor. So we stand there, three mature adults, worrying about this little tyke, thinking he needs our help, when he suddenly bolts for a section of fence that borders the Hundred Acre Wood, jumps, and neatly clears the space between the top of the fence and the strands of wire strung above it. The ones that are supposed to keep deer out.


It is then that we become aware of Bambi's mother standing just on the other side of that fence, waiting for him to join them in the wild woods beyond. And we realize that all of our good intentions and efforts are completely unnecessary. Given time, she simply would have called her little one, and when he was ready and able he would have followed. Evidently, Man was not needed in the forest at all.


Still, it is a lovely thing to behold how God has fashioned each of His creatures and given them the innate knowledge to live in the unique place they call home. Even when we come and build our houses and put up our fences alongside them. 

On this Lord's Day, it makes me think of King David's words, reminding me that the same God who minds the creatures in the woods watches over me, too.

You, LORD, are my lamp;

the LORD turns my darkness into light.

With Your help I can advance against a troop;

with My God I can scale a wall.

As for God, His way is perfect;

The LORD's word is flawless;

He shields all who take refuge in Him.

For who is God besides the LORD?

And who is the Rock except our God?

It is God who arms me with strength

and keeps my way secure.

He makes my feet like the feet of a deer;

He causes me to stand on the heights.*

This is the day the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it!

*2 Samuel 22:29-34