The Importance of the Duck Blind

Back when I was a younger man, I dabbled with duck hunting a little bit.  Like most hunting experiences, I was hooked.  However, the outcome of this part of my hunting hobby was short lived with the appearance of my first child Kaleb, and a couple of short years later the arrival of my daughter, Kayleigh.  For those of you that have experienced parenthood, you’ve likely at some level experienced the same thing that squashed my trips to the sloughs and flooded fields.  After all, when kids show up, everything that was once yours is no longer yours – your time, your money, your pursuits, your sleep, all of it.  For me, I found I was willing to lay it all down for a long while for the benefit of my kids.  As our kids have grown up and have found pursuits of their own – which still eats most my money to be clear – I’m happy to help them pursue the things they are passionate about.  In doing so, it had been several years since I had been on a duck hunt, shotgun in hand with a bag full of steel-shot.  But that recently changed thanks to two of the best friends a guy could ever ask for.

My friends, Tim and Ben, were behind my recent trip to the Missouri Bootheel to chase after some late season ducks.  These two incredible men have become very important people in my life.  Tim is one of the humblest human beings I know.  He is a connector of people, a man who over the course of his life has learned that life is too short to spend every second of it striving, hand constantly to the plow, and working.  The last four years, he has been a source of accountability for me who is continually asking me, “Brandon, when is the last time you took a day off?”  He has consistently extended invitations to me to join him on these duck adventures knowing full well from his own experience that hunting ducks with some of your friends is bigger than the pursuit of banded waterfowl.  Tim likely has no idea the significance of the role he has played in my life and I’m grateful, GRATEFUL for his friendship.

My friendship with Ben is much newer than my friendship with Tim.  Tim actually introduced me to Ben a couple of years ago.  Ben and I share a lot of the same pursuits in life.  He is in vocational ministry, he is a dad and a husband, a creative guy who has big dreams and goals, and he loves to be outdoors anytime the chance is given.  Ben has become a close friend and confidant over these last eighteen months.  We eat lunch together every other week just to ask each other the hard questions and tackle the tough things.  I value Ben’s heart and his willingness to care enough to invest in our friendship the way he does.  Everyone should have friends like Tim and Ben in your life.  You no doubt will be better for it. 

The week before Christmas, I loaded up my truck filled with the limited duck hunting gear I have left from a previous chapter in life and pointed my truck south and took off on the five-plus hour road trip to meet my two friends at the duck cabin.  The drive in and of itself was therapeutic.  It provided some quiet time to pray, to think, to catch up on some of my favorite podcasts, and just unplug a little bit.  However, as you may have experienced as well, even in the solitude of that truck ride, the to-do’s waiting for me at home when I returned weren’t too far from the center of my brain.  Regardless of the unwelcome distractions, I reached the end of the old muddy dirt road – a little piece of heaven tucked away in the southern-most corner of my home state.  Even as I was taking my key from the ignition, I caught a glimpse of a few drake mallards overhead, heard the unique call of a handful of gadwalls overheard, and the fighter plane flyby’s of a few pintails accompanied with their unique whistle were on full display as I got out and stretched my legs after the quiet road trip.

I arrived just before lunch time, so we took some time to enjoy a bite to eat and immediately started to put a plan together for the afternoon hunt.  The ducks moved fairly well the first evening we were there, and we were able to come just a duck or two shy of our limit that evening.  We knew the hunting the next couple of days was going to get hard.  The weather was wrong in just about every possible way.  It had been unseasonably warm; the ducks hadn’t been given any reason to move out and new ducks hadn’t been prompted by weather systems along the corridor to move into the area.  But I was quickly reminded that the importance of the duck blind wasn’t solely dependent upon the cooperation of the ducks.

The weekend provided a couple of days away with incredible friends who breathed a real gust of wind into my sails.  We laughed, we ate incredibly well, we shared dreams and goals, we talked about life including the good, the tough, the unknown.  We prayed with one another.  Of course, we watched some YouTube videos of other duck hunters that at some point in time had been more fruitful in their water foul hunts.  But by the time the weekend was over, I realized this trip had proven to be more than just bacon wrapped duck poppers and the sounds and smells of shotgun shells being fired into the sky.

There were really two things that God allowed me to leave that trip with.  First, a renewed reminder of the importance of brotherhood.  As men especially, it seems we our natural default is to take a lone-wolf attitude toward life.  At some place in the history of man, we began to perceive the need for friendship and camaraderie as a weakness and a fault.  God’s Word paints a very different picture though.  We are told that a friend that is as close as a brother is a blessing, a true gift.  I was reminded of the fact that duck hunting is very different than most other hunting pursuits.  After the sky is cleared with the thundering of bird shot, all those who are lucky enough to be sharing a blind together can go back to cutting up, telling bad dad jokes, singing songs way off key, making fun of one another, or solving the world’s problems.  It’s relational in a deep, even spiritual way.  No wonder God gave us the desire to hunt together.  It’s so rewarding.

Second, I was quickly reacquainted with my favorite part of duck hunting.  A good bird dog is impossible to beat in my opinion.  I could pack some snacks, fill my thermos with coffee, and head out to the blind leaving my shotgun at home with no other ambitions than watching a well-trained, loyal companion do their job to bring back the fruits of a shooter’s labor.  There is nothing better than seeing a dog whose single desire is to be loyal, please their hunting partner, be rewarded for a job well done, and never get tired doing what they are trained to do.  It is time well spent with a good dog, trained to know what every bleat on a whistle means, the purpose of a clearly communicated hand signal, and the eagerness of a great retriever to hear its name called signifying it is your turn to go do what you love and were created to do.

Thinking about it, that sounds a lot like what I want my relationship with God to be like.  I’m in a season of life where I have simple desires – I just want to be obedient to what God has created me to do.  I am eager and anxious for God to call my name signifying that the time has come for me to jump at the chance to do what He’s created me to be.  I desire to practice the same level of spiritual obedience to God - that I would respond at the smallest of gestures or signals from the One who knows which way I should go or when I should come back to the blind.  Watching Tim’s dog, Bella, do her thing was such a great reminder for me as to what I want my relationship with God to look like.  There were moments when Bella sure acted more like me though – she proved to be a little stubborn at times, jump the gun instead of waiting for her commands, and at times, she just kind of went at it all alone chasing after what she thought she was supposed to be chasing after ignoring the directions and the guidance of Tim to get her to the right place, to do the right thing.  She’s young, still learning, but she is already a great companion, and a whole lot of fun to watch work.  I saw a lot of me in that black lab during this trip.  Things that I strive to be, and the areas of my life where I yet need work.  

The importance of that weekend, the time spent with great friends, in the confines of a brushed in duck blind was exactly what I needed to take a breath, recharge, and take a moment away from the demands of everyday life.  But the importance of the duck blind has been emphasized to an even greater extent upon the realization that the season has come to an end here and there will be no more crawling into it with my buddies again until next year.  So, the lesson to never neglect it, take it for granted, or to forget its importance is absolutely necessary for next fall when the time comes to once again slide into a pair of waders, throw an old shotgun over the shoulder, and take a seat in that duck blind once again.  There are lots of life lessons yet to be learned there.