Field & Faith: Learning to Read the Tracks

A camouflaged hunting blind at the end of a wooded trail on Michael Vowell's property.

FIELD & FAITH

Tracking, Training & Preparation

The hunt begins before opening morning. So does faithfulness.

“He trains my hands for war; my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You have given me the shield of your salvation.”

Psalm 18:34–35

Listen: Learning to Read the Tracks

Prefer to listen? Hear Michael Vowell reflect from the property on Psalm 18, bowhunting, preparation, and the quiet discipline of learning to read the signs.

Hunting season begins next weekend.

But in a very real sense, the hunt has already begun.

This weekend has been about training. About preparation. About doing the work now that will matter when the moment finally comes.

I love the image David gives us in Psalm 18: “He trains my hands for war; my arms can bend a bow of bronze.” Think about the strength behind that picture. David doesn’t simply say that God gave him strength. He says God trained his hands.

There was preparation before there was strength for the battle. And that has been on my mind while I’ve been out on our property getting ready for hunting season.

The Work Before Opening Morning

There are some obvious things that have to be done. I’ve checked the deer feeder to make sure there is still corn. I’ve made sure the blind is set exactly where I need it. I’ve checked my shooting lanes and made sure the shots I might need are clear.

But most importantly, this weekend has been about tracking.

View from inside a hunting blind looking out through the shooting window toward the property.
Preparation means knowing the blind, the lanes, and the ground before the moment arrives.

And honestly, this may be my favorite part.

There are all kinds of technology available to hunters today. Trail cameras can tell you when deer come through. Cameras can show you which bucks are moving. Devices can record patterns for you day and night. Those tools can certainly be useful.

But I’m old-school. I like doing the work myself.

Reading the Ground

I like getting up around 4:30 in the morning and coming out before daylight. I want to see where the deer are moving at the earliest possible hour. Then, as daylight begins to break, I watch where they go.

Where do they come from? Where do they disappear? Which trails are they using? Where are they feeding?

Then I start walking. I look for tracks pressed into the dirt. I look for trails through the brush. I check the little piles of corn I left the night before to see what has been eaten. I look for fresh deer scat. I watch the animals themselves—does, young deer, bucks. Sometimes I just stand there and watch.

There is something deeply satisfying about learning the land that way. You begin to recognize movement. You begin to notice patterns. You start seeing things that someone walking quickly through the property might never notice.

A depression in the dirt. A disturbed patch of leaves. A trail through the grass. Fresh scat. Missing corn.

Individually, none of those things seems very important. Together, they tell a story.

Tracking means learning to read the signs.


God Trains Before the Battle

That brings me back to David: “He trains my hands for war.” Notice the order.

There is training before there is war. There is preparation before there is strength for the moment. There is repetition before there is readiness.

We usually want to get straight to the completed project. We want the opportunity. The breakthrough. The finished product. The moment when everything finally comes together.

But God often does some of His deepest work long before that moment ever arrives.

The work you do before the moment often determines what you are capable of doing when the moment arrives.

An Archer Understands Preparation

Anyone who bowhunts understands this. You do not simply pick up your bow on opening morning and hope everything works.

You put arrows downrange. Lots of them. You know your sight. You know the weight of your broadhead. You understand how your arrow flies. You know how wind affects it. You practice drawing from different positions—standing, sitting, inside the blind.

You repeat those movements until they become familiar. Because when the moment finally arrives, you do not want to be trying to figure out how your equipment works. You want to be ready.

That takes training. That takes discipline. That takes skill.

Training the Soul

The life of the Spirit works much the same way.

You don’t wait until everything falls apart to learn how to pray. You don’t wait until temptation comes to decide whether God’s Word matters. You don’t wait until your family is in crisis to begin praying for them. You don’t wait for the battle to begin before learning how to walk by the Spirit instead of being controlled by the flesh.

You train.

You get up in the morning. You open your Bible. You pray. You pray for your family. You listen. You repent. You worship. You practice obedience.

Day after day, you learn what the voice of Scripture sounds like. You learn to recognize where your flesh wants to take you. And you learn what it means to surrender yourself again to the leading of God’s Spirit.

None of that may look dramatic. Neither does walking through the woods looking at dirt. But both are forms of training.

Learn to Follow the Tracks

The more time I spend on this property, the easier it becomes to recognize what I am looking at.

Someone else might see dirt. I see a track. Someone might see disturbed leaves. I see a trail. Someone might see a few kernels of corn missing. I see evidence that something passed through during the night.

That kind of discernment comes through familiarity. The same thing happens spiritually.

The longer we walk with God, immerse ourselves in His Word, pray, listen, obey, and pay attention, the more we begin to recognize His work. We become attentive. We begin noticing things we once walked right past—a conviction, a Scripture that keeps returning to mind, a relationship requiring attention, an opportunity to serve, a habit that needs to change, a door opening, a warning we should not ignore.

Sometimes we want God to show us the entire road. Instead, He teaches us to recognize the tracks.

Don’t Despise the Preparation

Maybe that is where you are today. You are doing the preparatory work. And maybe it doesn’t feel particularly exciting.

You can’t yet see the finished project. You don’t know exactly when the opportunity will come. You aren’t standing at the destination. You’re still walking the trails. Still looking at tracks. Still putting arrows downrange. Still training.

Don’t despise that season.

Psalm 18 doesn’t simply describe the strength of David. It describes the training of David. God was preparing his hands before those hands were needed. And He may be doing the same thing with you.

The early mornings matter. The prayers matter. The repetition matters. The discipline matters. The unnoticed acts of obedience matter.

The unseen work is still work.

And when the moment finally comes, you may discover that God has been preparing you for it all along.


Field Reflection

What is God training you for right now?

And perhaps an even better question: Are you paying attention to the tracks He is leaving along the way?

Prayer

Father, train my hands for the work You have given me. Teach me to value preparation and to remain faithful in the quiet seasons when I cannot yet see the finished work. Give me eyes to recognize where You are moving, discipline to obey You in the small things, and strength to be ready when the moment comes. Lead me by Your Spirit and form in me the character necessary for whatever You place before me. Amen.

“The unseen work is still work. God trains His people before He entrusts them with moments that require strength.”

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