Are You Game?

Growing up in a rural area in upper NY State, I was exposed to rare culinary…uhm, treats. One of the more common entrées was the fuzzy gray speed bump known as “the squirrel”. My father hunted for them often, which never seemed much of a challenge to me. Our cat seemed to have no problem catching one in our backyard. However, my father would come back from hunting with a few and act like it was from some dangerous safari expedition. Our cat would just drop one at the front door and be done with it, all the while looking at my father with pity . No, eating them would prove to be a far greater challenge. Since we were quite poor, squirrel graced our table frequently, along with rabbit, pheasants and venison. My Mom’s squirrel stew was enough to place the little gray rodent on the endangered species list. That is, your species was very much in danger if you ate too much of it. I have learned through the years that there are some side-affects for eating so much game meat. Here are just a few that I have observed.

Squirrel: A great desire to raid neighbors bird feeders and to run back and forth in
front of passing cars.

Rabbit: I have seven kids, enough said.

Pheasant: A deep fear of being under glass enclosures.

Venison: The phrase, “Passing the buck” brings up past feelings of rejection..

(my apologies to all hunters out there reading this)


I remember one Thanksgiving, there simply was no money for anything close to a traditional turkey feast, and we were going to have to eat whatever was still frozen in our freezer for our meal. Fresh squirrel is one thing, squirrel stew that has been frozen for months is ungodly, but that is all we had. There was a knock at the door and when my mom answered, there was a man carrying a huge box. We let him in and he placed the box on our dining room table. Wishing us a happy Thanksgiving, he left as soon as he came. Inside the box were all the fixings for a hearty meal, including an already cooked turkey. I never did learn where that man came from, but I was so thankful he came that night.

Believe it or not, I look back at those times with fondness, (now that the nightmares have ended). They are memories of the faithfulness of our Father’s care. The blessings of our past spill over into our present, if we choose to recall them. I really don’t remember the taste of squirrel, (someone say Hallelujah!), but I recall the provision He made for us during those times. Those memories have taught me that, whatever our state, whatever our position, we need to be thankful to our God. How we choose to remember past events will determine our level of thankfulness. Regret is a bitter herb to add to the recipe of life and although we may not want to return to such times, we can be grateful to the hands that kept us. This Thanksgiving I’m choosing to be sopping wet with the memories of His blessings, letting them soak deep and flood out the debris of bitterness. I want those memories to lap at the shores of my children’s hearts as I share of the Father’s faithfulness to bless.

“From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.” John 1:16

Blessings,
Jay

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© 2008 Jay Cookingham - All rights reserved.
Jay Cookingham recently published two articles for the God's Way series. You can visit his home page at http://Jaycookingham.com

This column is used with permission.