A “stag” is a mature, adult male deer, particularly from a larger species like the red deer or elk. While “deer” refers to any animal in the Cervidae family, the term “stag” specifically denotes an adult male. Bucks are also male deer, but the word “stag” is considered more accurate in terms of a fully grown male deer in this larger species.
I have always wondered about the characteristics of these beasts. They are distinguished by their large, branching antlers, which grow annually and are shed in the winter.
These “stags” symbolize rebirth, rejuvenation, and adventure due to their cycle of growing and shedding their antlers.
Courage and survival are built into these four-legged male deer. Often hunted for their rack of antlers, they survive to live and die. They know how to listen for the hunters who stalk them. They are keen in their senses including the sense of smell and are often becoming the aggressor when cornered.
Their lifespan in the wild is between 10-13 years and in captivity, they can live up to 20 years.
“Why all this history about an animal?”
In many ways, the male species called “man” is also familiar to this wild beast.
Example: “A little three-year-old boy; if given a Barbie doll, will rip off one leg and use it to act out the sights and sounds of a semi-automatic weapon. He will use it like a rifle, and “rat-a-tat-tat" his enemies, even if Barbie still has her high heel shoes on.
Boys will be boys, and, in this day and age, I choose to identify as a grown man with a little boy attitude towards mankind. I am a protector of those I love, and I support the downtrodden. Like the “stag” deer, I will care for my wounded family in all manner of restoration and healing.
Hence the three bucks, living to die.
I will use my two grown sons as the example of this story.
I was never to have children according to the expert doctors I saw.
I had lost all my internal, reproductive plumbing in my last encounter with the Police Department. I was beaten until I had surgery, and, after the fact, I was deemed sterile with no living fish. For twenty years after prison, I was told by the medical community that it was impossible to have children. I had bought the lie in my Christian Walk and received the bad news prior to marriage to my current wife.
I was married in July of 1998, and around November of this same year, my wife came down the stairs in our home to reveal the news. She sat a paper sack on the living room floor as I watched the gleam in her smile.
I asked her, “Is that my lunch for work today?” She never said anything except, “Just open it.”
To my amazement, it was a 12-inch-tall plastic baby bottle, filled with pacifiers.
Stunned, I asked her, “What is going on?”
She stated, “I am pregnant.” I gasped and thought silently to myself, “Who is the father?”
This is not funny, but true because once you buy the lie from the doctor's report, and once you allow the “news” to penetrate your soul, then there is no hope. Just like the deer, trying to live to die, my hopes of ever being a father, were long forgotten prior to this day. I had bought the ultimate lie. “The doctors must be right.”
Well, they had run their many tests over the years and had confirmed that my reproductive fish were indeed dead. In fact, I had no fish in the pond to swim upstream or to be used to make a baby to start with. NO hope.
So, this day brought many tears of joy, knowing God had healed me and on May 13, 2000, my first-born son was born. Male stag. 14 months from this day, my second buck was born. Now it is truly, three bucks on a hill. Living to die. Living for Jesus and dying to our flesh. An ongoing process of maturity and growing up to serve the Master Jesus. All three of us.
I remember when my first-born was in the womb. I would talk to this baby by speaking to this God-given, miracle child. I would get as close to the wife’s tummy as I could and speak loudly, “You are to be a Shepherd. You will have a Pastor’s heart.”
Then, when my second child was in the womb, I would prophesy again, “You will be a Prophet to the Nations.”
We did not want to know the gender in advance with an ultrasound. We wanted to live with the surprise of “a boy or a girl.” Either way, we would give God all the Glory.
Fact is, we had two sons. Two bucks, to run around with their Daddy like three bucks on a hill.
It is a fact today in 2025, my oldest, who is 25 now, is a Shepherd. Though he does not Pastor a church, he has the distinct gift from God to “disarm” people, and minister to their hurts and pains. He is gifted to counsel them according to God’s Word, and all of this comes naturally. Not because I prophesied this, but it is a fulfillment of God’s promise to me to restore the years the swarming locust have eaten.
Joel 2: 23-37, “Be glad then you children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God; for He has given you the former rain faithfully, and He will cause the rain to come down for you, the former rain, and the latter rain in the first month.
The threshing floors shall be full of wheat, and the vats shall overflow with new wine and oil. So, I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the crawling locust, the consuming locust, and the chewing locust, My great army which I sent among you. You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you; and My people shall never be put to shame.”
Prior to prison, I was a pathetic maniac who had lost many years of my life to addiction. Violence and attempted murder were part of my police record prior to entering prison at age 20. I was a sick “stag” with antlers that were broken. My hide was tough but had many scars from bullet wounds and fistfights. My hooves were cracked and bleeding from running from the police. I was running away from life, and God.
Once I was saved by Jesus while still in prison, I had a bunch of growing up to do. Year after year, I would shed my antlers and try and grow new ones. Hoping the new antlers would hold up to my traumas in life. Suffering and pain were very common inside of my broken heart of hearts. Now I have two stag sons who can avoid the pitfalls I jumped in to with both my feet.
My second son is truly coming into his own as a true minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He has spoken to many men in prison certain things that only God and the prisoners could know. He recently spoke prophetically while in a church in the Northwest this last August of 2025. It is called the gift of discernment and the Word of Knowledge. His personality is one that is best described when he teaches or preaches as, bold with grace. “Get in, get out, or get run over, is his way of ministering this Gospel of grace. He does it with love, but also with a kind of boldness that depicts petting a cat backwards. “MEOWWWW!” Scratch and run for the hills.
I see attributes in both of my sons like the stag deer. They do not really take after me but are using some of my descriptive stories in their ministry endeavors to teach people more about what NOT to do, rather than TO DO. Both have their Daddies DNA, but the Spirit of the Lord is in both, as they pursue the hills to climb in this life.
I can’t be here forever as the “Old Pop” one of them refers to me as. I am the old buck on the hill. Yes, I am living, but I am really dying to self-daily to be the best version of Jesus I can be. I am human and am weak and frail at times. I am the old stag who has run up many mountains. I have crawled on my belly in the valleys of sorrow I have experienced. I have shed my antlers, repeatedly, that many times, were twisted and broken as they grew out. Deformed and unhealthy.
Time ticking by and trials have taken their toll on my body. I have hooves that are sore and that need stag-shoes nailed to them to endure the rocks and stones of the pathways I tread upon.
These three bucks on the hills of life are trying their best to be themselves. We are trying to be a little bit like Jesus, enduring hardships as they come. Never giving up. Never quitting as we are the “hunted” by the enemy of our souls. We are fighters. Not quitters.
We fight the good fight of faith, and we strive to lay hold of eternal life which is ours in Christ Jesus.
Like father like son, is an over-statement. I do not want my boys, who are grown men now, to be like me. I want them to be like Jesus. Tough skinned and tender hearted.
Eventually they will get old like me should the Lord not come back yet. They will learn to shed the tough skin or hide that reveals their own scars. They will remain tender hearted towards the Lord Jesus Christ.
My oldest “stag” is 25 and now married to the love of his life. She is his doe. The best mate he could ever “rut” over and win to his heart. He is her buck. Together they make a fine wine, aged with time and better as the years pass. My prayer is for them to remain faithful to each other as they stay true to Jesus. He is the leader of their hearts.
My youngest, who is 24, is pursuing his dream up in the Northwest. He flew the coop last evening on September 2, 2025. His heart is to be like Jesus too. He is a man of God who wants to have God continue to “create in me a clean heart O God and renew a right spirit within me.” Psalm 51: 10.
Like David in the Bible, my youngest son is becoming a king of sorts. His heartfelt plea for divine purification and spiritual renewal after his faults, is a righteous expression of a heart after God’s heart.
The “Debra” or prophetess and judge of Israel understood oppression. She lived centuries before David, serving as Israel’s judge during a period of pain before the rise of the monarchy. Both David, in his time, and her in the time she was a judge, are uniquely significant figures in Israel's history. Their stories are intertwined. Like two hearts, connected by fate for a nations Sovereignty. And restoration.
My prayer for my two bucks today is a simple one. Let every year be restored. Let every decision be prayed through. “Let everyone who has breath, praise the Lord.”
My two sons are living. Not living to die. Living to die to the past. Living to please their Master Jesus. I am a proud father today. Very proud of them. Very proud.
As the days go by, and the three bucks walk slowly down the hill, the two young ones will look behind them briefly. They will see their Daddy buck, trudging slower and more carefully. I do not want them to slow down for me. Please don’t.
Just keep following the footsteps of Jesus. He will never leave you abandoned.
When my time comes to meet my Master, I will have left behind some hooves in the mud on the hill. Someday I hope the two of you will go back to the hill you were raised on and look at my last hoof prints. Look carefully. See their size and deep measures in the imprints left in the tracks you both walked with him. If you look closely, you will see that the prints in the mud are not as deep as they were many years ago.
The reason that they are not as deep is simple. Back when you were both born, I carried you down the hills in life. You became heavy over time which left the prints deep and wide.
It is a good thing to see them after I am gone. You will notice they are not as deep any longer. They were intended to be this way now sons. It is because I am no longer carrying you on my shoulders. It is not needed anymore.
You both are left behind to be the bucks on the hill now. Live. Live to die to this world and its worthless values. Die to self. When you both do this, you will find that Jesus becomes the fullness of all your dreams and desires.
Look now off in the distance. Look into the forest.
Next time you both see a deer on the side of the highway or see a buck running by on the land near Bandera where I now live, remember this story.
Remember, you both were never supposed to be born to live. You almost did not make it. But you did. Now you live.
The sun will set someday and when the darkness of night comes, just remember your place in the herd. Lead them. That was what you both were born to do anyway. You know the way. He is the Way. And He is the Truth. Just like this story. You both know it is true, and Jesus made the decision to bring you into this herd.
All we must do is see the forest for the trees. The other deer are there too. I know in my heart that the two of you will stand out amongst the herds in life. You were designed by God to do this.
Someday these two stags will leave their own footprints behind, and they too will leave a mark on this life. Those imprints are going to tell their own story. Some old buck left behind the pattern to follow. Run boys. Run fast young men.
Three bucks on a hill.
