Ryan K. Coffey | Pastor, Speaker, Author

On September 21, 2025 I had the opportunity to harvest what many would call “a buck of a lifetime.” I took a 160” class whitetail, with double drop tines, and at least 18 score-able points from my farm in Pulaski County. He is every hunter’s dream. He’s wide, tall, and heavy and was easily my biggest bow kill. Now as proud as I am of the deer, my farm, and the opportunity to hunt such and incredible animal, I write this to share what God taught me in the process.

The story begins the year prior when I missed the same deer in the Fall of 2024. He was chasing a doe, ran right under my stand, stopped at 25 yards, slightly quartering away, and gave me a difficult but makable shot. He spotted me as I drew my bow, so I aimed quickly and released my arrow. The events that followed led to some of the longest and most disappointing days of my outdoor life. 

Climbing out of my stand I found my arrow, tracked the deer to the edge of a nearby wood line, and then decided to back out. I was confident in the shot, but wanted to give the deer time to bed down and expire without pushing him. After recruiting family and friends, I came back later with intentions of tracking, recovering, and celebrating the hunt. As we began, the blood trail was easy to follow and we were confident the shot was fatal, but eventually found nothing. Additional attempts were made in the days that followed but we unsuccessful in recovering the deer.

Finally after several weeks of frustration and disappointment, the deer reappeared on camera. He was tired and worn, but alive. The 2024 season came to an end with not other opportunities to take this great deer. I quietly prayed that he would survive the winter and I would be given another chance in the following year. As I began my mid-summer scouting efforts in 2025, one of my first trail camera photos I received revealed that not only was the deer alive, but that he had grown into something far greater. In 2024, he was a large eight-point with a kicker off his left G2, but now he had become something truly special.

After showing up consistently on my camera all summer, the deer we once called “Moose” (We called him Moose because of his large antlers and the way he would tilt his head side to side while moving through the brush) had suddenly disappeared. By the first of September he had already shed his velvet, changed his daytime pattern, and made the shift toward becoming fully nocturnal. Trail cameras captured his movement at night and then for thirteen consecutive days there was no evidence of him at all. He finally reappeared on Saturday, September 20, in daylight, and I knew I had a chance. I made plans, checked the weather, and hunted the following evening, Sunday, September 21. Just as he had the day before, the deer appeared in the waning moments of shooting light, walked directly toward my stand, and gave me the perfect 15 yard broadside shot.

Now here’s why I tell this story. Recently I received the deer back from my taxidermist. He is truly a sight to behold. It is hard to find an angle to view him in which you can count all of his points and see his unique characteristics. However, in the exploration of this beautiful mount we noticed something else. A very unique, distinct, 3-blade arrowhead shaped scar on his back. Apparently, the year before, I had managed to hit him in one of the few non-fatal locations on his neck. The arrow had passed over his left shoulder, beneath the spine and above a major artery. This resulted in a wounded, yet viable deer. 

Now in full transparency, I wanted to hide the scar. I hoped no one would see it and that I would never have to explain it. The scar was so glaring and troublesome that part of me wanted to rename the deer. Instead of Moose, I now wanted to call him “Sin.” He was ugly as sin and the mount was a permanent reminder of my miss. That’s what sin means, “missing the mark” and now I had a lasting tribute to my great miss.  

A few days later I returned to observe “the scar of Sin.” As I reflected on the previous events and considered my own shortcomings, it hit me. I had been viewing it all wrong. Yes, I had failed. Yes, I had missed the mark but the Lord had given me another chance. This one phrase captured my heart and mind, “Just because you missed it once, doesn’t mean you will miss it forever.” 

As a pastor, I have the incredible privilege of proclaiming the Good News that we serve a God of second chances. Instead of focusing on the “scars of our sin,” the burden of our past, and the shame and guilt we carry we can turn to the Lord and be reminded of His grace. I wonder how many times in our daily lives we grieve over how bad we have missed it rather than rejoicing in the second chances offered to us in Christ Jesus. We serve a God of second chances. He can redeem our past, mold us in our mistakes, and fashion something beautiful, even out of our greatest failures. When it comes to sin, acknowledge it. Confess it. Repent and return to the Lord. Rejoice! And remember, just because you missed it once, does not mean you have missed it forever.

You see, here’s what is interesting about scars: they represent both hurt and healing. Brokenness and repair. Wounds and restoration. When you show off a scar, you get to decide which part of the story to focus on. The hit or the miss. You see, just as I looked at the “scar of sin” and focused on my miss, we are also invited to look at the nail-scarred hands of Jesus and focus on our forgiveness. Yes, I missed it once, but I didn’t miss it forever. My hurts have been healed. My sin forgiven. In Christ Jesus, I have been given a Second Chance.