I saw a deer today – it was the closest I’ve ever been to one. He’d ventured into the parking lot of the Wolf River trail, and, seeing me, didn’t run back, didn’t even freeze- just looked at me. I could have been just another squirrel for all he seemed to care.
Just as I was celebrating such a sighting, into my head popped a story I read recently about a woman getting attacked by a deer. I turned from looking, quickened my step, thought about how I could run for cover.
I braved another look; he was still there, but now too far away to really enjoy. Then he was gone.
Relieved but sad, I thought again about that story. Was it really a deer? Several deer? Maybe it was raccoons. I really didn’t remember. It was definitely something to be found at the Wolf River where I regularly walk, which explains why I’d filed it as a danger to beware, albeit carelessly, given that I can’t say definitely what the attacking animal was.
Who’s afraid of a deer? Should I be? I wasn’t before that story. Before 9/11 New Yorkers didn’t run for cover at a low-flying plane either. Experiences, even rare ones, are powerful. My reaction was a testimony to the power of suggestion, of how what goes into our brains can determine future actions, whether true or not.
Now that I’ve thought it through, I can see there was no reason to fear that deer today, and I hope I won’t spoil another chance like that, should I be given one. If I really knew deer, I'd know there was nothing in that moment to be afraid of.
My pastor spoke Sunday about the importance of Biblical knowledge of God, knowing what is indeed true of Him. False knowledge of God, and there is much said today that is false, will not help us become fruitful, better Christians. Nor, I would say, will spotty knowledge help – snippets from here and there, clipped from truth, pasted together haphazardly, surfacing only when the need arises. Like my knowledge of deer.
