The Hunt for Preparation: Mastery Is Earned, Not Given

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After three relentless days of hunting, my body was worn thin. We’d covered mile after mile across the dry, unforgiving countryside of Argentina—through dust, brush, and heat that clung to your clothes like a second skin.

And then, just as the sun began its descent, we spotted him.

A white fallow buck.

Not just any deer. This one was old. Intelligent. Smart. A creature that had survived not just the harsh terrain but years of being hunted. He stood at the edge of the savanna, half in shadow, half bathed in light. He knew we were there. Somehow, he felt it.

We were downwind. We’d done everything right. But this animal had lived long enough to recognize danger before it made a sound.

He moved—not into the thick cover like most would—but into the open. He exposed himself yet dared us to try.

The problem? My rifle—a rugged 1972 Winchester—wasn’t built for a 1,200-yard shot.

This wasn’t going to be easy. This wasn’t going to be clean.

If we wanted it, we had to earn it.

Table of Contents

Every Inch Earned

So I dropped to our bellies and began to crawl.

The ground was sharp, dry, and cruel. Thorns tore at my skin. Sharp grass sliced through our sleeves. Every inch forward demanded patience, control, and complete silence.

It wasn’t just the physical strain—it was the mental game.

This wasn’t about muscle. It was about mastery.

And mastery requires endurance.

The closer I got, the more intense everything became. My heart raced. My breath quickened. My trigger hand itched with anticipation.

But years of training whispered a different command:
Calm your heart. Control your breath. Don’t rush.

At 150 yards, I finally stopped. The buck stood broadside, motionless. Proud.

I leveled the rifle. Exhaled. And squeezed.

The shot landed true. The buck fell.

But that moment wasn’t the reward.

The reward came later.

The Real Impact of Preparation

Back in the nearby town, the locals had been following our hunt closely. Not because of the sport—but because the meat from that fallow buck would feed multiple families for weeks.

This wasn’t a trophy. It was a provision.

The older farmers smiled and nodded with quiet respect. The children gathered, wide-eyed and curious. Every part of that animal would be used. Nothing wasted.

As I sat by the fire that night—surrounded by laughter, grateful hearts, and the scent of meat roasting—I thought back to something deeper.

The moment of the shot was only possible because of the years of preparation that came before it.

The Lessons Were Always There

Long before this hunt, my father had been teaching me:

How to read the wind.
How to move without being seen.
How to stay patient.
How to shoot under pressure.
How to wait for the right moment—not force one.

At the time, it felt like overkill. Like he was making things harder than they had to be. But in the middle of that savanna, crawling through thorns, I realized:

He wasn’t preparing me for a shot. He was preparing me for life.

This Is Business

You may not be stalking a white fallow buck, but if you’re leading a business, you know exactly what it feels like:

The slow crawl through chaos.
The weight of decisions that can’t be rushed.
The need to keep your heart steady when everything is on the line.

The truth is—the opportunity you’re working toward is coming.

But it will only belong to the one who’s prepared.

Not the one who’s talented.
Not the one who’s lucky.
The one who’s done the hard work in the unseen hours.

So when your business hits a wall…
When your team stumbles…
When the growth slows down or the stress piles up…

Don’t call it failure. Call it preparation.

Are You Really Ready?

Ask yourself:

Am I building systems that will stand when the pressure hits?
Am I training my team so they can run without me?
Am I leading like the moment I’ve been waiting for could come tomorrow?

Because here’s the truth:

God is preparing you for what He has prepared for you.

And your future clients, your family, your legacy—they’re going to need a leader who didn’t flinch under pressure.

They’re going to need someone who crawled through the thorns and kept moving forward anyway.

The question isn’t if your moment is coming.

The question is: Will you be ready?

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