Patience

Patience

After my good cur Tyge passed away i started shifting to bird dogs just to learn something new. For a while it was just ol gun-shy Kindle. Like every dog owner who has ever lived, I eventually spoke the famous last words:

“If one dog is good, two dogs are great.”

That logic has never failed to fail.

I was already having my hands full with one German Shorthaired Pointer, so naturally I decided another one would help. My wife, Belinda, reminded me once again that I’m not always smart, but I am faithful. She says that with love. I think.

Not long after, a close friend mentioned he had a young pup. He’d planned to keep him, but decided it wasn’t the right time. That’s how I ended up with a twelve-week-old liver-ticked spitfire of a male that I named Hokies Big Time Gunner. Gunner would become an emotional roller coaster of excitement, love, frustration, admiration, exhaustion, and eventually, respect.

I once thought about writing an entire book just about Gunner. Then I remembered the verse that says if everything Jesus did were written down, the books of the world couldn’t contain them. I figure Gunner falls into that category.

Gunner has lived fast and dangerously. He is the most athletic dog I have ever owned or seen. From a young age, he was breathtaking to watch in the field. His instincts were natural. I didn’t make him a bird dog he made me a bird hunter. The first time he saw a bird, he knew exactly how to work the wind, where to look, and how to find birds that other dogs seemed to run right past. He was everything a German Shorthaired Pointer should be. Powerful. Graceful. Focused. Beautiful.

And now comes the teaching.

Gunner has been a handful. Stubborn doesn’t quite cover it. Reckless might be closer. At times, I’ve wondered if he has a death wish. He’s been bitten by copperheads multiple times, lost more than once, he is a skunk destroyer, eaten rat poison, bitten by a rattlesnake, attacked by a bear, swallowed a plastic bag and had nine inches of his intestines removed, suffered pancreatitis, and collected dozens of puncture wounds due to what I can only describe as an open-minded approach to danger.

Gunner has been my hardest challenge.

I’ve never owned a dog who knew exactly what I wanted but at times would look me dead in the eye and defy me. He is probably the best bird dog I will ever own, yet there have been many days where joy was replaced with frustration because Gunner decided he had his own plans.

One year I took Gunner to Iowa, where we harvested some of the most beautiful pheasants you could ever hope for. I had two mounted—one on the ground eating corn and the other flying from a fence post. A short time after i got them back Gunner escaped his kennel, was able to open the lever on our front door, went into my study, and chewed up both pheasants. When my wife saw it, she yelled, “Don’t kill him!” That was probably good advice.

Gunner is still with me. He’s twelve now and has slowed down some—though not nearly as much as he thinks. I am sure you will read more about him in the future as he has taught me a lot! As I write this, he has just finished recovering from having a toe amputated. The vet used the word none of us like to hear—the “C” word—but they believe they got everything, and his surgery went great. I’m still hunting with him, just a little slower now and a whole lot more appreciative of every day we get. When I walk into the vet’s office these days, they just say, “Take him to his private room.” They have pictures of their kids on the wall so we know which ones he paid to send to college.

Through Gunner, God taught me something I didn’t want to learn, but desperately needed, Patience.

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).

There are days when I get aggravated with Gunner, and if I’m honest, those days turn into a mirror. Because it doesn’t take long before I realize I’ve done the very same thing to the Lord. I’ve read His Word plain as day, felt His nudge in my spirit, knew exactly what He was asking… and still slowed my feet, stalled or even at times argued. I’ve acted like I had a better view of the trail than the One who laid it out.

And then come the trials.

Not always the kind that fall out of a clear blue sky. Sometimes they’re the kind we wander into, boots and all, because we didn’t listen. Like Gunner chasing what he shouldn’t, I’ve chased things that cost me more than I wanted to pay, and just like that dog, I’ve felt the sting of it.

But here’s the deeper truth Scripture hands us, not like a slap to the face but like a steady nudge on the shoulder:

James 1:2–4 reminds us that trials aren’t wasted ground. They are training ground.

“Count it all joy… when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” Some translations use the word patience where steadfastness is.

Trials are where patience is born. Not in comfort or ease. Patience grows in the slow grind of difficulty, where faith has to breathe deeper and trust has to stretch farther.

If we’re going to talk about patience, we’ve got to start with God’s.

Because long before we ever learn to be patient with others, God has already been patient with us.

Psalm 103:13 says, “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him.”

That’s not the picture of a God pacing heaven in frustration. That’s a Father who knows our very being, who sees our weakness, who stays steady even when we are not. His patience is not Him overlooking sin. It’s Him walking with us through it, correcting, shaping, and refusing to quit on us.

 1 Corinthians 13:4 brings it home: “Love is patient and kind.”

Patience isn’t just something God does. It’s who He is. If His Spirit lives in us, then patience isn’t optional equipment for the Christian life. It’s fruit. It’s evidence. It’s a spiritual gift growing on the tree of a surrendered heart.

That changes how we see people. Because when someone tests us, delays us, frustrates us, or flat-out ignores what’s right, we’re not just dealing with inconvenience. We’re being invited into the same kind of patience God has shown us over and over again.

And that’s not easy!

Patience feels slow and it feels costly. It feels like holding your tongue when everything in you wants to let it fly. But patience is strength under control. It’s trust that God is still working, even when people aren’t moving at your pace.

God has used Gunner to teach me that.

These days, he’s a little more worn, a little more careful. He checks in more. Stays closer. I don’t know if it’s age or wisdom, but I like to think he’s learned something about trusting his master.

Standing there watching him, I realize I’m still learning the same lessons.

Still learning that I can trust my Master in the middle of trials.

Still learning that patience isn’t just something I practice, but something God is producing in me.

And the hard one; I am still learning that the same grace that steadies me is the grace I’m called to extend to others.

Because in a world full of rushed tempers and short fuses, patience is a quiet kind of power. So today instead of responding or saying something we shouldn't out loud maybe under our breaths laugh and say as my wife reminded me "Don't Kill Him".