Getting to Know Jonathan & Michelle (Part 2)

(Note: This is a series of emails from Jonathan Jones for the members of the Maryville Church of Christ. If you received this email by mistake, or had rather not get it (fine, be that way) just send me a note and I will take you off the mailing list).

Both of my grandfathers were avid outdoorsmen. Don, my mom's dad, loved to trap. He once harvest two solid black coyotes. Guy, my father's dad, was the best hunter and fisherman that I've ever known. He has a large fish on his tombstone and the words "A fisher of fish, and a fisher of men" engraved on the marble headstone. He served as an elder in the church my entire life until his untimely death. He was raised on the banks of Cathey's Creek in the Hampshire community. He often went from house to house along that creek after his mother died and lived much like the mythical "Huckleberry Finn." He learned to live off the land. He trapped for foxes and coyotes, he hunted whitetail deer (in his later years) but was best known as an amazing fisherman. He fished with cane poles, new open-faced reels, and even with his hands gabbling for large catfish in the Duck River (also known as noodling).

Because of Grandpa, my dad Jonathan Sr., myself and both my brothers (Brett and Bart) are avid hunters. Even my sister, Jill, has killed her fair share of deer. In fact, she has harvested one of the biggest trophy bucks of any of us boys. We Joneses love the outdoors. I have been taught to have a great appreciation for being surrounded by the things God has made and to glorify Him because of His Creation (see Romans 1:20).

Michelle grew up fishing, too. She loves to fish. Well...really she loves to relax on the shore with a fishing pole in her hand. We love to spend our recreational time in the great outdoors.

The picture above is a 10 point buck that I harvested with a bow on my family farm last week. When I hunt, I usually go to watch the wildlife. Very rarely do I decide to actually harvest an animal. But this deer is the best that I have ever harvested with a bow. After he was down, 4 more bucks walked under my stand. As I watched these majestic creatures slowly creep through the woods at dusk I thought of the words of the ancient Pslamist, "As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God" (Psalm 42:1).