Back when I was in college, I had made some bad choices my first semester. So moved back home for a bit. Because of that, the funding got cut off. At the time I thought it was terrible, but honestly it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. It taught me responsibility, work ethic, and how to survive on Friendly Market hot dogs and expired condiments. So there I was working a job during the day and taking some classes trying to crawl my way back from bad choices.

Pull up a chair, let that coffee steam a little, and I’ll tell you about a hunt that turned into a spiritual tattoo. It won’t ever leave me. One year I slipped off out to Kansas all by myself. No schedule, no noise, just me, a couple of bird dogs, and miles of country that looked like it had been painted by a fella who liked wide brush strokes. I found one of those “walk-in” areas. You know the kind. From the road it looks about as promising as a Walmart parking lot after clo

Can you imagine that? God just moved in a mighty way… and Jonah’s sittin’ there mad about it. He obeyed… but his heart never got there. He did what God told him to do but he didn’t have to like it. Sound familiar?

Trips have a funny way of sticking with you. Some you remember because everything went right… and some you remember because somewhere along the way, the Lord tapped you on the shoulder and said, “You paying attention?” This one’s a little of both. A few years back, me and the brothers heard about a place down at White River in Arkansas. They said it was a bumper crop kind of spot for coon and squirrel hunting. Only opened a couple weeks a year… which, if you’re a hunter, that

That’s why the Bible gives us a little hunting advice for life in James 1:19: “Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath.” In other words… don’t just pull the trigger because something flushed.

I was trying to outthink a creature that God designed with a nose that could probably smell a biscuit baking three counties over and tell you if it needed more butter. Truth is, I was getting in her way.

And here’s the truth If you hold onto what hurt you, you start to resemble what hurt you. That’s why Romans 12:19 says, “Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” God’s saying, “You don’t have to carry that. That ain’t your job.”

Now, praise God, we had friends step in and help her get home safe… but while all that’s going on, my buddy looks at me and says, “You think we oughta turn back?” At that moment I said something real spiritual… “Nope. We’re going to Oklahoma.”

I ended up with a pup out of Gunner and a fine female named Annie. Now that pairing right there produced some real-deal bird dogs. The kind that make you look smarter than you are when folks are watching. Over time we had four litters, and out of that last one I ended up with a little female I named Elsa Hutton. Elsa… she’s a looker. Liver-patched, ticked up just right, smaller framed for a German Shorthaired Pointer, but don’t let that fool you. She’s spunky, sharp, and abou

We pull up, and right off the bat I notice something ain’t right. He cuts the truck lights off way too early. Starts easing in like we’re part of some undercover operation. I’m thinking, “We hunting coons or planning a heist?”

Now, I’ll be honest, I was hoping it held a little emergency “college survival fund.” But when I opened it, out slid a refrigerator magnet that read: “It’s hard to soar with the eagles when you run with the hoot owls.”

For me? We had just entered the Amazon rainforest, and I was fully convinced they’d find our bones years later with a note that said, “We ate the dogs before giving up.” Panic hit me like a freight train.

So here I was, standing at a folding table in Wytheville Virginia, realizing something that took me a lot longer than it should have. All that work… all that effort… all that pride, and it still wasn’t enough. And friend, if you’re trusting in your works today, I say this with all the love I’ve got—It’s not enough.

Now before anybody gets sideways, I know dogs aren’t people. We’re created in the image of God. We’ve got eternal souls. A bird dog ain’t sitting around contemplating Romans 8. But sometimes a comparison helps shine a light where we need it. Because we’re living in a world where discipline has about the same reputation as a pineapple on a pizza, it just don't belong.

So I slipped on my shoes and made what I call the Midnight Walk of Aggravation. That slow shuffle out toward the kennels where you keep asking yourself, “Why in the world do I keep doing this?”

That dog went from wandering, burned, and unwanted to living the good life. Fed well, taken to the vet, taken to the groomer, and surrounded by kids, laughter, and a home that expected him to stay. Somewhere along the way, Curly didn’t just find a place to stay—he got adopted. He belonged.

He was seeing what he wanted to see. That’s kennel blindness. So if we’re honest… that don’t just happen in the woods. It happens in the mirror.

What kind of follower of Christ are you gonna be? One that runs hard for a little while and then checks back in when it gets tough? Or one that locks in, puts your head down, and says, “I’m staying with this till the end”?

If you’ve ever hunted behind different kinds of dogs, you learn pretty quick that not all dogs are wired the same. Some of them have one goal in life, and that goal has absolutely nothing to do with you, your plans, or where you thought y’all were headed that morning. I grew up around hounds. And a hound… well, a hound is gonna hound. You turn one loose you feel he just signed divorce papers and got the bass boat. He ain’t looking back. Nose hits the ground, ears flop forward

Patience the Bible tells us that God is not just patient, but longsuffering. “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love” (Psalm 103:8, ESV). “The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you” (2 Peter 3:9, ESV).