Continuing The Hunt

The year was late 1981 and I was sitting in the middle of the woods on top of a hill. Below me I could hear the rumbling of the river to one side and every so often the bubbling of the brook that fed into the river. The moon was out but could barely be seen through the canopy of trees that covered the area. Even through this there was a stillness, a peace that confirmed everything would be okay. Unsure of what the future would hold for me, a young man in his junior year of high school. I no doubt had ideas of greatness, assured that there were things that I was meant to do, but fear surrounded me that I would not be able to accomplish them. As I listened to the rattling of the leaves caused most assuredly by some small creature I was reminded of how small I really was; just a insignificant country boy who came from a less than stellar family with no real accomplishments of their own so how could I accomplish anything. Suddenly in the distance I heard the sound of Duke, my young Walker coon dog baying. I sat there listening to his beautiful voice running that coon down, knowing that he would never actually catch it he continued anyways on the hunt. I laid back on the ground, shut my eyes and just listened to him. I don’t think I have ever heard a sound as wonderful as his voice since then. As he ran from one trail to another his voice would change confirming that he was on the right trail. By the end of the night he had finally got tired of running the trails and walked up beside me. We sat there for a few moments before he put his head in my lap and I scratched his head for a while before we finally headed home.

Not long after that I arrived home from school one afternoon to find an empty dog box and leash. In the middle of the day someone had stolen him from our yard but I never forgot that dog nor the sound of his voice. He had left an even greater impression on me with his determination. Even though he knew the coons would evade him by climbing a tree he still persisted in the hunt. He refused to give up even when the odds were against him and that is what has driven me all these years later. As I read the letters of Paul while he was in prison I am reminded of Duke. Tucked away in a Roman prison, chained to a guard Paul could not but praise God with prayer and song. I am sure that those around him were thinking him crazy but he persisted because it was not about him but Jesus Christ and because of that persistence many came to know Christ as their Lord and Savior. All too often we give up way too soon. Things get hard or maybe we are laughed at and we give up. The cares of the world overtake us and we get wrapped up in our own success and we give up. We get looked over for a promotion at work and get our feelings hurt and we give up. Oh we might still go to church on Sunday but we have given up living for Him. We hear the world denying him and we give up instead of getting on a new trail and continuing the hunt. We stop baying and give up, returning to the Master empty handed instead of continuing in the hunt until we can’t hunt any more. Stephen continued even while they threw stones at him and though he never saw the fruit of his message the young man holding the coats continued the hunt until he too was put to death.

Several years after Duke was stolen I was in the Air Force when I got a call from my dad. He called to say that while on his way home from work he had gone a different direction and had seen this dog in someone’s yard. After a few days he decided to stop and after he had gotten out of the car the dog recognized him and began jumping all over him. When the new owner came out to see what was going on my dad explained what had happened years before. The man could only acknowledge that the dog recognized my dad and offered to give him back to which my dad explained I was no longer around. This relieved the man as he told my dad that the dog had been the reigning night champion hunter for the past couple of years. Duke had never given up the hunt. “The harvest is plenty, but the labors are few, pray that the Master of the harvest would send laborers.”