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Randy Eason
This is the third installment in what I have penned as "The Back Roads and Bridges Series". Meaning, the back roads are where I find peace, and a quiet place to talk to God. And the bridges are the...voir plusThis is the third installment in what I have penned as "The Back Roads and Bridges Series". Meaning, the back roads are where I find peace, and a quiet place to talk to God. And the bridges are the lessons of life, learned through outdoor experiences. My books have sold on every continent on earth (except Antarctica), and I have developed a healthy following both inside and outside of the Christian community. I know that one of my spiritual gifts is to write of the sometimes miraculous blessings God has shown me through my outdoor pursuits. The resulting stories are not about me and my prowess. They are given to me as a means to reach out to souls that they can connect with, or are going through something, and need to know that someone else has been there too. I am humbled to be used in this way by my Creator, and try with all that I am to be worthy of the blessings He bestows on me. By using each one to connect with those that might not be reached any other way.
I have always felt closer to God when I am 20 feet up a tree. The world slows down and I feel that I can hear Him better. Away from the distractions of the things of man, where I can see His handiwork in everything around me. From the rocks to the trees to the breeze on my face. And through my study of the natural world and primitive living, I learned to take only natural items, fashion my own weapons, and have provided meat for my table with them. A truly spiritual feeling I assure you.
I was Chairman of the Kansas City chapter of The Christian Bowhunters of America for 12 years. But being a single parent, raising my two girls on my own, I have since passed that on to other worthy souls. Being a divorced man, I knew my ministry had to be outside of the everyday church, and God blessed my efforts placing us in the presence of over 50,000 outdoors men and women every year as a witness. I grew up on a farm in west central Missouri, in the day when a fence was just something you climbed over, rather than a boundary line. And the number one reason people hunted, was simply to have hunted. Where a stranger was just a friend you had not yet met, and the word neighbor meant more than the people who live down the road. I write about faith and family and tradition, and the adventures I share with my daughters. Who are my legacy to this world, and also my best friends.voir moins