<TITLE>11. Par 37-40</TITLE>L-37 So then when, I'd watch that. And I'd have to turn my face. And one year when I went up there, Burt had invented himself a little whistle. And he could take that little whistle and cry just like a little baby fawn. I said, "Burt, you're not going to use that."
"Oh," he said, "Billy, get next to yourself. You preachers are just too chicken-hearted." Now, he was doing it just to be mean.
And we went hunting that day, and it was along noontime. We hadn't even seen a track. And he was walking ahead of me, a little larger man than I, and few years older. And he stooped down by a little opening. There was snow on the ground, about like it is outside now. And he picks up this little whistle out of his pocket, and he stooped down, and he cried like the little fawn.

L-38 And when he did, just across the clearing, hardly as far as this arena is across, a great big mother doe (that's the female deer) raised up. And he looked back to me with those sheepish looking eyes, and he laughed to himself. I knew what was coming. That mother raised her head. Oh, I could see her big brown eyes and those veins in her face, those big majestic ears sticking up. Oh, she was a beautiful sight. And she was looking. What was it? A baby was in trouble. And she, by nature, was a mother. She wouldn't have raise up any other wise, but the baby was calling. And not only that, but she walked out in this clearing. Oh, never would she have done that in the daytime. She knew it was dangerous. The hunter would spot her.
But what was it? A baby was crying. She was a mother; it was something in her. It wasn't a put-on, as Christians try to do today. It was real. She was a mother. She walked out into the opening. I heard the rifle come back with the rejecter, and the bolt slid down, covering over a .30-06 shell. I seen that hunter Burt, lay it out, oh, he was a dead shot. And the cross hairs in that scope laid across that mother doe's heart.

L-39 I thought, "Oh, my, in another second or two, he will blow her heart plumb through her." I thought, "Burt, how can you do that? That mother, she can't help it; she's a mother. Can't you see, she's got no fear. She's not putting on a act; there's something in her. She's a mother; she stepped right out in the face of death; the baby's crying, where's it at?"
And as I see him drew that bead, oh, I just turning my head and the deer spotted the hunter. She jumped; those big ears stuck out like that, right down through the brisket. I seen that rifle drop. Oh, I turned my head; I thought, "I can't watch that, that display of something real, something real, a genuine love, for she was a mother. It was real love. She never run; the baby was in trouble. Though it took her life, she'd see the baby through.

L-40 And I turned my head, and I begin to pray silently. "Oh, God, don't let him do that. How can he be so cruel-hearted?" And I waited; the gun never fired. I waited a little longer; the gun never fired. And when I turned, the gun was going like this. He turned and looked at me; he threw the gun on the ground and grabbed me by the legs; he said, "Billy, I've had enough of it, pray for my sinful soul."
There on that ground, in that snow, I led that cruel-hearted man to the Lord Jesus Christ. Why? Because he seen the display of something that was real. Way down in him... He had an outside that he was trying to make me feel bad, but inside down there, it was hungering for something real. And when he saw the display of real mother love, he surrendered himself to Christ.
Friend, tonight, and, Christian, tonight, and believer, tonight, what the world's waiting for, not the whole world over, not everybody in the world, but the real believer is waiting to see God display Himself in a genuine act of the Holy Spirit. It'll cause men to be drawed to Him. Let us bow our heads just a moment for prayer. (If the sister will go there.)


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