Having Kids Changes Everything

Having kids changes everything. I remember life before kids . . . lots of luxuries abounded such as free time, privacy, money . . . those of you who were parents know EXACTLY what I’m talking about. But having kids changed more than just those things. It changed the way I viewed the world. It changed the way I lived my life. It changed what was important to me.

I didn’t really get into hunting and the outdoors until my early adult days. I was always enamored by the culture, and I have always been inspired and moved by the beautiful work that God has rendered on His canvas called Earth. But as I started chasing white-tails and trying to swoon those strutting gobblers, I became obsessed with it. It was more than notching a tag though. With the culture comes a comradery, a community that is second to none. Even more unique are the opportunities that are created for us as parents to raise our children in this culture and community.

Don’t get me wrong though, the pursuit of notching a tag, besting last year’s harvest, the culmination of a year’s worth of work in planting food plots, deploying cameras and sorting through the pictures, brushing in blinds, the feeling that overtakes you when a big buck steps out trailing a doe, or the feel in your soul when a gobbler is spitting and drumming, or the sound of a group of ducks disrupting the glassy surface of the flooded corn field, there’s nothing like it. I quickly found when I began hunting with my kids, it all pales in comparison to when your kid holds your hand in the darkness of the morning on their first trip to the blind, or the smile on their face when you put on their first dab of “war paint”. There are no words to describe the joy of being a part of seeing them harvest their first doe with that single shot .223, or peppering their first turkey with that youth model 20 gauge. It’s in those moments when my priorities changed – in fact, I’d dare say that’s when everything changed for me in how I viewed myself and this world. I quickly realized I didn’t care if I punched another tag the rest of my life as long as I could be around when my kids notched theirs.

I remember when my son started hunting. In the spring, Kaleb loves chasing turkeys. In fact, I believe God has given him more than his fair share of favor when it comes to turkeys. He went on his first turkey hunt when he was six, and he has harvested a bird every year of his life since up until this year. We just simply couldn’t get one tracked down this year. We have some crazy memories chasing birds with our good friends, his Uncle Wes, and especially Aaron Bentley, one of our 3CC team members. Aaron put his life on the line and picked a fight with a ticked-off tom a few years ago and nearly engaged in hand to spur combat with a bird to make it happen for Kaleb that year.

I remember when Kaleb harvested his first buck, in fact, we captured it on video. Kaleb used to get buck fever really bad. He struggled to slow his breathing, and he would often get the shakes so bad that I sometimes wondered if our shoot house, ground blind, or two-man ladder stand was falling victim to some never heard of Mid-Missouri earthquake. But to be present, when it all came together - the careful squeeze of the trigger that he put on that youth model .243 and to watch his first buck ever fall, the smile on his face, the tears trying to escape from my eyes as this moment shared between father and son could never be taken away from us.

Then came Kayleigh as she got a little older, she decided she was ready to give this hunting thing a whirl. Kaleb and Kayleigh trade in their spring camo and don their orange fatigues, completely overpack the backpacks complete with little buddy heaters, a lifetime supply of HotHands, Strawberry Pop-tarts, Little Debbie snack cakes, and a full thermos of hot chocolate just in effort to keep our little outdoor diva Kayleigh warm. Oh . . . and don’t forget the iPad with all her favorite downloaded Netflix shows and her headphones. Afterall, she must stay occupied while I keep my eyes peeled for the first mature doe that steps out for Kayleigh. Sis has really become our go-to source for summer sausage and jerky. She really couldn’t care less about the sum total of inches of antler on some shooter buck’s noggin. All she cares about is finding that tasty, tender backstrap, and the delicious makings for her favorite jalapeno and cheese summer sausage.

Even as an uncle, I have been so excited as my nieces, Aleigh and Avery, have both already tagged multiple deer. And the look on the face of my little nephew Gauge this year, complete with his wiry, ornery smile, as he has been able to join in on the fun and experience our passions for the outdoors. Wes and I have talked about this a lot, there can’t be too many greater places to be here on this earth than in the woods hunting with one of our kids. It’s special. It’s spiritual. After all, the greatest gift that we can give our children is to raise them in a way where they can see the Lord. The Bible teaches us that we are to raise our kids up in the way of the Word and they won’t depart from it. Sure, sometimes they may take the scenic route, but we can trust they will come back to it. We’ve already seen it time and time again, being in the outdoors has proven to be a great platform for God to reveal himself to our kids.

I’ve thought a lot about this. I mean is there a better classroom than sitting in a blind watching God paint the skies with the colors of a beautiful sunrise, and hearing God compose some of the most beautiful songs with the singing of the birds and constant chatter of the squirrels? God’s fingerprints are all over the sights and sounds of this thing we call hunting. But even more so, there is no greater gift to give our kids than our time. I’ve said this before, as I look at how quickly my kids are growing, I’ve come to realize that my time with them is in limited supply. I’m learning that someday I’ll look back and wish I had more time with my kids. I don’t suspect I’ll look back and wish I would have worked more or had more to do. This gift called hunting is an avenue from which I can give my kids the very best of what I have to offer them – my time. My prayer is that when my time on this earth is over, I will have proven a good steward of the time I’ve been given with my kids. Hunting is a big part of that for us.

Don’t get me wrong, the pursuit and the fun of punching a tag with a great harvest is always so much fun. But even when we are left to eat a tag sandwich after a hard season of very little hunting success, it’s always a little easier to swallow when you are in the good company of your kids.