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It Is Finished!

Hunter's Journal: October 2024

Reader Contributed | September 24, 2024

Hoke Hamby, 7, took his first two turkeys during the 2024 turkey season while hunting with his dad, Blake. In between the two turkeys, Hoke made a decision to trust Jesus.

By Blake Hamby

Me, my wife, my son Hoke and my youngest son all went over to some private land I have permission on. On the ride over, my youngest son fell asleep, so my wife elected to stay in the truck with him so we could go do our thing. So Hoke and I went and tucked in the edge of the field. We stuck a strutter and hen decoy out and got sat down.

Hoke was toting a New England Firearms .410 my granddad had given me when I was 10. With the help of Jebs Chokes, I had the barrel cut, threaded, drilled and tapped with a new a turkey choke. Pairing that with a red dot and some No. 9s, we were ready to rock.

 We did some cold calling and quickly had a bearded hen show up. She fed around for a while, then we noticed a few deer and a tom enter the edge of the field. I told my son I would call to him. I did and he lifted his head and laid eyes on the decoys. Immediately, he turned and came straight for us, stopping halfway to strut his stuff.

As he got closer, I coached Hoke on doing like we had practiced before at home. Trying to control his breathing, he focused the red dot on him and began the squeeze.

Bang! His first bird hit the ground! Our eyes lit up with excitement as we ran out to the gobbler. I had no idea at that point what we were fixing to witness. As we hugged and high-fived, I rolled the bird over, and to our surprise, we had to count out the beards. Four in total! I told him, “Son, you may never kill a bigger bird than what you did for your first one.”

As the phone started ringing, mom and younger brother were on their way to come share the excitement. What a memory we made.

March 31, 2024 was Easter. We were up early to attend our church’s sunrise service in remembrance and reflection of what our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ had done for us on the cross. We had a wonderful service that morning. We took communion, sang some old hymns and listened to the preached Word.

After the service, we came on home for a while before returning back to our regular Sunday service at 11 a.m. For months, Hoke, who is 7 years old, and I had been having some really good conversations about salvation and what it means to accept Christ.

As our regular service was going on, we gave a song of invitation. During this time, Hoke looked over to his mom and handed her a drawing he had made of Christ on the cross and had written underneath it: “Jesus, God, I choose to be saved!”

Immediately after the service my wife came to me and handed me the drawing that Hoke had given her since I had been sitting up front for the service. I went and talked to Hoke about what it meant, and him and I and my pastor prayed and rejoiced together as he made his profession of faith in Christ.

After the service, we came home to get caught up on some yard work. Once we reached a stopping point, I asked if everyone would like to try to go get on a bird. We got a unanimous answer, so we rode over to some private land, unloaded and got tucked in on a field edge.

The first call I made a tom hammered back to me. I called again, no response. I called again, no response. I told Hoke we were going to sit quiet and to be watching because he may show up out of no where. As I was getting that out of my mouth, he hammered again much closer. I called with some excited cutts and yelps, and two gobbled back to back. Just for fun, I cutt some more, and he hammered again. I laid my striker down and told Hoke to be ready, that they’d be there in just a second. Without any time wasted, poof, both appeared in full strut, coming straight to the decoys.

I reminded Hoke to take his time as they quickly were sizing up my strutter. One of the toms jumped in the air and flogged the decoy, knocking it off the stake, which caused a lot of confusion. Hoke was trying to follow along as they moved back and forth. Each time they would stop, I encouraged him to shoot until finally he took the opportunity. Bang! Down went his second and final bird of the season.

Just like that, on an Easter Sunday, my son’s first turkey season behind the gun and where he would spend eternity was finished.

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