The memories of my first hunting trip with my dad are as vivid in my mind today as ever before. I was just nine years old when my dad introduced me to the world of hunting on a cool, fall morning in Tennessee. I can recall like it was yesterday, my feeble attempt to keep up with his pace while hiking through the woods. I remember trying to stretch my stride as far as I could in an effort to place my boots in the tracks my dad had made. As I grew older…and wiser…I realized how following my father as a child was simply an earthly example of how I was to follow in the tracks of my heavenly Father. Although I asked God to save me as young child, I later faced years of stepping away from the tracks God was making before me. There were no wild and reckless years of drug and alcohol addictions and run-ins with the law. The fix I was after involved getting into wild places and pursuing wild critters one on one. The thrill of the hunt!
How could anything as pure and wholesome as the sport of hunting be harmful? The problem came in the fact that I had allowed hunting to become a god to me. It was what my heart sought after.
“And he did evil because he prepared not his heart to seek the Lord.” – 2 Chr. 12:14.