What I didn’t realize is over time, I began using those situations as an escape. The 2am bedtime and group of 4 guys on the porch turned into a 5am bedtime and group of 1. I’d think about my mom’s situation, drunk and alone.

On one of those 5am kind of nights I finally went in my room to go to bed. I was changing shirts and the mirror caught my eye. I first saw my beer gut in a way I hadn’t before. It was large and in charge. As my eyes worked their way up, I ran into my double chin that looked to be considering adding a third. I noticed the unmanicured beard that screamed alcoholic. My eyes carried a broken emptiness I had never seen before. The blue was now dull and black dilated pupils from drinking. I had no purpose in life at that point. There was nothing bringing me peace or freedom. Every party, woman, and beer left me emptier than the one before.

Call it cliché, but my last resort was to hit my knees. The only thing left to do was to pray. I admitted I didn’t know what I was doing. I admitted I was a sinner in need of a savior. Did I have complete faith in God? Absolutely not. I even gave God a test after I got up. I had a dust-covered bible on my dresser, likely there with hopes of impressing someone, or to just help the facade I put up. I said, “If my purpose in life is to truly live for you, prove it”. I open my bible to John 20:21. It says, “Again Jesus said, peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you”. I wish I could make that up. Granted, I didn’t know the context or even what that meant at the time, but it sparked enough curiosity to learn more.

I dove into listening to sermons, reading my bible more, and even got into a relationship with a Godly woman who helped me through my toughest times. I don’t want it to sound like I changed overnight but I finally felt a purpose in my life. The all-nighters became few and far between. Dangerous friendships fizzled out and my heart changed over time. I trusted in Christ and was baptized in May of 2017.

During my junior year, on December 1st, 2017, I had just gotten off an exciting phone call with my mom about how she qualified for a new type of cancer treatment. The hope and joy in her voice brought me peace and I was genuinely happy. That night, I was woken up in the wee hours of the morning to the doorbell ringing and someone banging on my front door. Still half asleep, I looked through the peep hole and my heart sank. It was my brother and father. It had to be at least 3am. Something was wrong, and somehow I knew what it was. They came in and broke the news.

My mother had been taken to the hospital that evening after her blood pressure was higher than usual. They didn’t inform me because this wasn’t completely out of the norm. Often, she’d return home in a matter of hours and carry on like it was nothing. She was a fighter, a true woman warrior. She didn’t want to show weakness. But this time a tumor had caused slow internal bleeding against a main artery in her spine and it progressed rapidly. There was nothing the doctors could do to stop it, it was too late.

Her last words to my father were, “tell those boys I love them”. She raised my brother and I with every ounce of love she had. That love poured over to the friends and families that packed the church during her funeral. I was overwhelmed at the amount of people that showed up. If you’re reading this and you were there, “thank you” doesn’t do it justice. Ramona Denny will always hold a special place in anyone’s heart who knew her.

I grieved. Thankfully, I turned to growing a deeper relationship with God, rather than turning away from Him. I had every reason to blame Him but the people around me kept me afloat. If I hadn’t had hit rock bottom before her death and turned to God, I’m not sure the scenario would have been the same. I rested on the positives of her life. She battled cancer for years but was able to be there for my brother and I during the years that mattered most. Her story and love has become embedded in us and we’ll carry that with us throughout our lives. I share this not only to honor her life, but to share the power and glory of God.

I returned to college that spring. At this point I understood who God was, but wasn’t ready to let Him take complete control of my life. I missed going out, partying, and the “fun” of college. I just wasn’t done living for myself yet. I got back into going to the bar, even though I knew God was desiring all of me. I would say I was about 75% committed to him. As for the brand, I started incorporating some “faith” into the product designs, just enough for me to check the boxes but still live how I wanted to live.

Upon graduating college, I got into the custom apparel industry where I became obsessed with chasing money. I was designing hats, tee shirts, and logos for anybody and everybody. I worked myself to death because it was the first time I felt successful. I met a great girl named Olivia, and we started dating. I felt like things were coming together. The brand was doing fine and I was making great money for my age, and I told myself I was mostly committed to God— maybe 85% at that time. I had been writing devotions to help me get in the word more, and was incorporating the “Faith Based, Outdoor Driven” slogan more into the brand. But I was holding back.

I realized I needed community and a deeper relationship with God. I needed other believers around me. I blamed Covid or just a Sunday hangover as a reason to not go to church and watch online. Olivia convinced me to get back into going to church and I realized that’s what I needed. I needed to draw closer to God and trust he would draw closer to me. He did just that. I began praying about starting a men’s group with all my close friends. We started walking through a book by Rick Warren called “What on Earth Am I Here For”. As I began to see God working in the lives of my friends, he really began to work in me. Through those relationships with other believers and my close friends, I realized then I was about 95% surrendered.

I was deepening a relationship with God, in His Word, but knew there were a few areas of my life I hadn’t surrendered to Him. I knew I was holding on to the hardest 5% to let go. The first step to complete surrender was realizing the terrible ways I used God. I claimed to be a believer, taught other people the truth, but then turned around and displayed a poor image of God. I was a hypocrite.

The second step was acknowledging sin areas in my life I was still holding onto. Sex before marriage, financial and materialistic idols, and not tithing to the church were some of these. Why could I not surrender them? Because I didn’t completely trust God and his plan for my life. I decided to surrender 100% to the Lord and submit myself to him. It didn’t happen overnight. It’s taken me 5 years of getting to know God to be able to put my complete faith in Him. I’m far from perfect, but I’m surrendered. I’m experiencing joy and peace like never before. It’s true what they say, “You're as close to God as you choose to be.”

I share my story not to boast about my relationship with God, but to encourage you in yours. If you’ve been through a storm like I have, I hope God uses it to draw you close to him. If you haven’t been through a storm, one is surely coming when you least expect it. And remember, true joy is found in surrender to Christ.

See you in the blind.

- Jack Denny

I grew up in a Baptist Church, attending once a month because I had to. When my parents were set on going, we went. Standing up to sing Hymns interrupted my drawing on the bulletin, but that’s about all I remember from it.

As I got older, my father began taking me hunting on weekends not interrupted by our football or baseball games. We had the stereotypical “American dream” family growing up. A hard-working father and a loving mother for me and my brother. Little did I know a life-changing storm was heading our way.

Sometime during 8th grade, I was called into my parent’s room one day and my mom told me she had cancer. Seasons of chemo came and went. It was a cycle where she would go through treatment, be cancer free, then just have it come back around.

Through all of this, I did what many high schoolers do. I discovered partying and how to sneak around my parents’ back all while trying to be a “good kid”. I never got arrested or any tickets, and got pretty good at keeping up appearances.

During all of this, my passion for hunting grew. At the same time, I was intrigued by a family-friend who had a start-up southern apparel company. He did his own graphic designs for his tee shirts, and I was intrigued. It was 2014 and I had played around with Microsoft paint for quite some time not knowing anything about graphic design software. I started sketching ducks and thought it would be neat to have my own brand. I came up with the name “Swamp Dog” and created a very amateur logo and decided to have some t-shirts made. I created a social media page, it grew rapidly and soon I had people mailing cash and checks to my house for hats and tees. Before long, our guest bedroom turned into an inventory room with racks full of Swamp Dog products. I really underestimated what I had going.

Upon graduating high school, I went to East Carolina University to pursue a degree in construction management. I started chasing women and partying every chance I had. I used the Swamp Dog brand to brag on myself and to me, it was just a cool hobby. The brand didn’t have much purpose other than selling cool hunting designs on hats and shirts. I spent minimal effort on school, went out during the week, and would go home to see my mom on the weekends. I was relatively numb to the fact my mother was slowly dying. This was the calm before the storm.

I didn’t have a relationship with God, but I sure did have one with an 18 pack of Busch light. It wasn’t unusual for my friends and I to stay up until our beer was gone. This was college, right? To me and everyone else at school, this was normal. If anything, it was a bragging point to be able to suck down a case of beer, skip class, and laugh at a hangover the next morning.