10/14/2026
🦌 **TWO WEEKS AGO, I LOOKED MY SON IN THE EYES AND TOLD HIM WE WERE DONE SEARCHING. TODAY, GOD REMINDED ME THAT THE STORY WASN’T OVER.** ❤️
I’ve struggled to find the words for this story because, looking back, I can see God’s goodness woven through every detail.
It was the final Sunday of the **Chad Banks Memorial Youth Deer Hunt**. With only an hour of daylight left, our hopes of a successful harvest were fading.
My youngest son, Jase, wasn’t even supposed to be hunting that weekend. When a couple of hunters couldn’t attend, he was given the opportunity to participate. At the time, it felt like an unexpected blessing. Now, I see it as part of God’s plan.
Jase is 12, and he had never harvested a deer. Because Pastor Brad was sick, we ended up hunting from his stand—a stand my oldest son had helped me build just weeks earlier.
Jase wasn’t supposed to be on the hunt. We weren’t supposed to be in that stand. And we were down to the final hour.
**Then everything changed.**
A buck stepped into view, and Jase made a shot I couldn’t have been prouder of—a solid front-chest shot. The deer mule-kicked, the blood looked good, and everything pointed to a clean harvest.
I remember the excitement, the fist pumps, and the celebration between a father and his son.
**“THAT’S A DEAD DEER!”**
I was certain of it.
We climbed down from the stand on cloud nine. Not only could this be Jase’s first deer, but it had happened at the Chad Banks Memorial. I couldn’t wait to share that moment with the Banks family and everyone who had worked so hard to make the hunt possible.
But the celebration didn’t last.
We picked up the blood trail, and at first, things looked promising. Then the trail became difficult. Three experienced hunters joined us, and together we searched, tracked, and kept pushing.
Minutes became hours. Daylight disappeared. Hope turned into concern.
We continued searching late into the night, but eventually, there was nothing more to follow.
And I had to do something that hurt more than walking away without a deer.
**I had to look my 12-year-old son in the eyes and tell him we were done searching.**
I’ll never forget that moment. Just hours earlier, we had been celebrating what we believed was his first buck. Now, I had to tell him we weren’t bringing it home.
That was a hard lesson for Jase—and an even harder one for his dad.
For nearly two weeks, I replayed that shot in my mind. I saw the hit. I saw the reaction. I saw the blood.
**How could we not find that deer?**
Then, today happened.
Nearly two weeks after the Chad Banks Memorial…
**WE FOUND HIM.**
**JASE’S FIRST BUCK!**
And where was he?
**SUBMERGED IN A POND, NOT FAR FROM WHERE JASE HAD SHOT HIM!**
After all those hours of searching and all the effort from so many experienced hunters, there he was.
And we discovered something that answered the question we had carried for two weeks:
**JASE HAD MADE A GREAT SHOT, RIGHT THROUGH THE LUNG!**
The shot we believed was good really was good. Somehow, that deer made it to the pond and remained submerged until we found him.
We wish we could have recovered him that Sunday night, but finding him today, confirming the shot, and giving Jase the joy of holding his first buck meant more than I can explain.
As I stood there reflecting on everything, I realized something even greater.
**God had been writing a story far bigger than I could see.**
Jase wasn’t supposed to be on the hunt. Pastor Brad’s illness placed us in that stand. My oldest son had helped me hang it. And in the background of the pictures with Jase and his buck was a refurbished box blind.
That blind holds a memory more precious than any deer I’ve ever harvested.
**It’s where Jase gave his life to Jesus Christ with me.** ❤️✝️
The same boy who once sat with his dad in that blind and made the most important decision of his life was now standing nearby with his first buck—after a journey filled with excitement, disappointment, confusion, and unexpected redemption.
That’s what I see in those pictures.
I see a father and son. I see memories with my older boys. I see an unexpected opportunity. I see volunteers who refused to give up. I see the love poured into the Chad Banks Memorial.
And I see the place where my son made a decision that matters for eternity.
**That is the goodness of God.**
God was good when we walked out of the woods empty-handed. He was good during the two weeks when we had no answers. And He was good today when we finally recovered Jase’s buck.
His goodness never changed. Only our circumstances did.
The Chad Banks Memorial is about far more than harvesting deer. It honors Chad, encourages families, invests in young people, and points others to the hope we have in Jesus Christ.
I wish Chad could have been there to see Jase’s excitement. But I’m grateful for everyone who continues to honor his memory by making opportunities like this possible.
To every volunteer who searched with us late into the night, thank you. You showed Jase what it means to care for others and respect the animals we pursue.
And to my boy, Jase:
**Buddy, I’m proud of your first buck. But I’m even more thankful that I get to be your dad.**
Every time I look at those pictures, my eyes will go past the antlers and toward that old box blind in the background.
Because that’s where the greatest part of this story happened.
The greatest trophy in that picture isn’t the buck.
**It’s knowing my son belongs to Jesus.** ❤️
God is good when the blood trail ends. God is good when the search is over. God is good when we don’t understand.
**God is still good.**
🦌 **FCA Outdoors — It’s Never Just About the Hunt.** ✝️
