When Ben from Benjamin Brew sent me a bag of his “Woodsman” coffee, not only did I feel more accomplished as a blogger (coffee gifts are like a rite of passage), I was totally ready to put it through the coffee torture test. That test meaning, breakfast.
The man who taught me to deer hunt and fish was very busy raising a family. But he somehow always found time for us to spend many weekends a year in field and on the stream.
Upon returning from a recent pastor’s conference, I was overwhelmed with thanksgiving as I unpacked my bags full of fresh new books! I needed filling. My spirit felt dry. If I say that now, I must take the full responsibility on myself, because I no longer have any excuse.
I made a single barred owl hoot with my voice and not one but two gobblers responded from their roosts. These gobbles allowed me to know without doubt exactly where these toms were for our round the next morning.
Dragging your archery buck on a November morning, throwing hay bales into the loft for a local farmer, or trying to keep up with your bird dog all have one thing in common… work capacity. Start including this exercise in your routine!
I can’t say that I’ve achieved final victory over failure in life. It would be foolish to try to convince someone it’s even possible. Humans fail. Failure, and the results of it are a harsh and painful reality. What I can affirm, is that if I have any true victory or success at all in this life, it is ultimately because of God’s grace.
Fishing has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. When I was a little girl, my father would load up my brothers and me in a rented RV and take us up the 395 Highway for a week of lake fishing in the high Sierra. It leaves you breathless—and filled with expectation—for what is awaiting all whose hope is found in Christ our Lord.
Don’t we love heroes? They’re the guy or gal that goes above and beyond the call to selflessly sacrifice for the sake of the “mission”. In the darkest hour, they shine bright. The history books praise their valor and we shower them with medals and gifts. They stepped up. I can remember one of my…
My feeling about sportsman’s ministry in it’s traditional sense is conflicted…. Here’s why.
I got very tired of tackle boxes falling out of my unclosed vest pockets and also forgetting where all my different boxes were located. Not to mention all the unbelievably annoying zippers. So I chose to go ultra-light.