Five Things We Will Learn
- How even faithful people can grow weary after years of ministry.
- Why the simple prayer “Rescue me” can restore life and hope.
- How God uses unexpected moments—dogs, dreams, and laughter—to renew vision.
- What it means to be a rescue and to rescue others.
- How God reminds us that all life matters and that His love rescues again and again.
When You’ve Given Everything
Well, speaking of Dream Mountain—Dream Mountain. I was going through a time in my life when we had been in ministry for a long time. We had been walking through the Malachi Mandate (NextStepOutback.org) and seeing so many things that you read about in the Bible take place—not just miracles, but the power and presence of God in everyday life.
After years like that, you can still find yourself exhausted. You just get beat down. You get tired and start thinking, I don’t know if I have the energy to go on. That’s when you know—you need God to touch you. You need a touch from God, right?
Because, as Dr. Mike Brown says, “God gives a man a vision—and then He destroys the man.” It’s when you think nothing is ever going to happen again that He begins to bring forth the vision. Jesus said, “Unless a seed dies, it will never bear fruit.”
When the Vision Feels Dead
When you’re going through that kind of season, it feels a lot like what Joyce Meyer describes—when an eagle begins to reboot its life, pulling out its feathers, retreating to a place of renewal. It’s painful but necessary.
That’s where I was. And that’s when I found myself at Berry College in Rome, Georgia. It’s a beautiful campus. The founder, Martha Berry, began by teaching the children of sharecroppers who had no education. She started with just a dream and a little schoolhouse, and from that dream came a college that still stands today.
Donna and I stayed in what used to be an old dairy farm—over a hundred years old—converted into peaceful guest quarters. I was told to take some time, go up the mountain, and spend quiet moments with God.
The Climb Up Dream Mountain
So I started climbing what they called Dream Mountain. Every single step, I said the same prayer—“Rescue me.”
Every time my foot hit the ground: “Rescue me.” Step after step: “Rescue me.”
I thought, Dear Lord, if You don’t rescue me, I’m not going to make it. It was that deep. Like David in the Psalms crying out, “If You don’t come and rescue me, I won’t survive.”
And that mountain—it wasn’t small. It was tall, and every footfall carried the same cry. I didn’t even have words to express what I was feeling. All I could say was, “Rescue me.”
The Bench at the Top
When I finally reached the top, I sat on a wooden bench overlooking Berry College. I was praying, “Dear God, restore my vision. I need help. Rescue me.”
Then, out of nowhere, two dogs appeared at the top of the mountain. One carried a small pinecone in its mouth. He dropped it at my feet and stared at me. I threw it. He fetched it and brought it back. We did it again.
That’s when the Lord spoke to me: “You’re going to have to play again. You’re going to have to enjoy life again.”
For so long, I had forgotten what joy felt like. Ministry had become so intense that I had forgotten to live. But there on Dream Mountain, through two playful dogs and a pinecone, God told me—Play. Laugh. Enjoy this moment.
The Dream in the Dairy Farm
That night, back in the dairy farm, I went to sleep—and God gave me a dream.
In the dream, I was in my backyard—but instead of a dog, I had a cow. A full-grown cow that acted just like a dog! It was running around, playing fetch, jumping with joy. It was so happy, so alive, that I woke up laughing.
I told Donna, “We’re getting a dog.” And she said, “Okay.” Well—eventually she said okay.
A New Companion Named Max
When we returned home, I learned about a German Shepherd rescue. Having spent nine years in law enforcement, I’d always admired shepherds—their intelligence, loyalty, and strength.
So I went to the rescue shelter. Inside a 10-by-10 grass-floor kennel sat a puppy—about ten months old—with paws bigger than his head. Someone had given him to a chemotherapy patient, thinking it would be therapeutic. But when you’re in chemotherapy, survival itself is enough—you don’t have time to clean up after a chewing, restless puppy.
I walked into the kennel and sat down beside him. He sat down next to me. We looked at each other, and I said, “You know what? I’m a rescue too.”
That was the moment God spoke again: The same way I rescued you, you’re going to rescue him.
His name was Max. And from that day forward, it was Max and me.
Adjusting to Life Together
When you adopt a rescue, the first thing they do is make sure the dog can’t reproduce—they neuter him. I remember feeling sad. He was full-blooded, strong, beautiful.
At the time, Amber—my daughter—and my son Gered wanted a dog. Donna was hesitant. We brought Max home anyway.
He was on medication from the vet and jittery from the change. Amber and Gered must have looked like pork chops to him because he was chasing them all around the house! She wanted a dog so badly, but she was running for her life while yelling, “I still want him!”
We put him in a cage, but he was so strong he bent the metal open like Hercules. He didn’t want to be away from us. He was a shepherd—he needed to be close to his family.
When God Reminds You Who You Are
Watching Max taught me something powerful. I was a rescue, too. I had been lost—broken—before God found me.
Years ago, when I was a deputy sheriff in Pensacola, Florida, I was patrolling late one night around 2 a.m. when suddenly, out of nowhere, I felt the hunger for God. I had no idea where it came from. I was listening to Marvin Gaye on the radio—and then, just like that, everything changed.
I started searching for Christian radio. I called dispatch and asked, “Where’s Christian radio on the dial?” They told me it didn’t come on until 6:30 a.m.
So I pulled into the dirt parking lot at Brownsville Assembly of God—3100 West DeSoto Street. Pastor John Kilpatrick was pastoring there then. I didn’t know him, never met him.
I looked up at the church sign, and it said, “Dinner on Thursday night.” That’s my language—dinner! So I came back that Thursday night.
That evening, I met God—and I met Donna. We pulled into the parking lot at the same time. Her brother joked, “Got yourself a new beau?” I didn’t even know what that meant. But that’s how it all began. God rescued me that night.
Can You Be Rescued Twice?
You can. I used to joke, “Can I get born again—again?” But it’s true. When life piles on, when ministry weighs you down, when sin and disappointment cloud your heart—you can come back to that altar moment and say, “God, rescue me again.”
That’s what happened to me on Dream Mountain. God gave me my dream back.
Maybe you’re there right now. You’ve done everything right, given everything you have. Maybe the people you served have turned against you. Maybe you’ve lost your love for ministry—or for people.
When I feel like that, I know I need to pull away, be alone with God, and find that love again. Because, as Scripture says, “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.”
God Rescues Again and Again
Just like He rescued me years ago on patrol, He rescued me again on Dream Mountain. And if He can rescue me, He can rescue you.
If you’re ready to give up—on ministry, your calling, your family, or even your life—don’t. God’s not finished. He still rescues.
If you need someone to pray with you, you can email us or call 850-780-6520 or 844-40-VFN-TV.
Two Rescues
Later, I took Max out for a day. I gave him a bath—quite an ordeal—and we drove to downtown Pensacola.
We sat overlooking the bay, watching the seagulls and pelicans. Just me and Max—two rescues.
At one point, Max spotted a pelican spreading its wings. He looked at me, eyes wide, as if to say, “What is that, Dad?” I told him, “That’s a pelican, son.” He wasn’t convinced.
When the sun set, we stretched out on the grass near the water. The breeze was gentle, the sky golden. I thought, This is what rescue feels like—peace.
By the time we got home, we were both dog-tired—literally. Max’s tongue hung out, one ear asleep, the other barely listening. It was perfect.
Caring for All Life
God wants us to care for all His creation—animals, people, and the earth—but never to exalt any life above the human life created in His image.
He knows every bird that falls and every hair on your head (even if you have fewer than I do!). Each hair has its own number.
So yes, care for animals, love creation—but remember: human life matters most.
When people chose to save that three-year-old boy’s life over the gorilla’s, it was right. Sad, yes, but right. Every human life—born and unborn—matters deeply to God.
I think about my granddaughter, Mallory. She’s due any day now. I can’t imagine choosing not to give her life. All life matters.
A Prayer for Rescue
Father God, thank You for rescuing us—again and again. For everyone reading this who feels hopeless or tired, breathe life again. Restore dreams. Heal hearts.
For the one ready to quit—rescue them. For the one who feels confined—free them. For the one who’s lost their joy—teach them to play again.
In Jesus’ name, amen.