It really astounds me how loyal dogs are.
How we can usher them into a crate for hours while we go to work or go have fun, and they’ll still be there, waiting. Wagging their tails as we enter through the door once again, smiling as we shower them with pets and love and kisses and affection.
How a little black puppy can loyally stay by my side in the shower, trying to peep her head around the corner to make sure I’m okay and how she’ll actually wedge herself between the two curtains so she can see me through the translucent inner curtain and how she’ll sit on the bath mat right outside the tub, waiting for me to be done. Waiting for me to accompany her.
How a little black puppy will literally whine and claw and scratch at my door whenever my friend is downstairs eating because she senses me in my room and misses me and wants to see me.
And I wonder what it would be like if we were that loyal to God.
If, instead of falling off into apathetic valleys and tendencies, we stayed in the crate and waited until we saw God’s hand in things, and how it’s always for our good and never our worse.
If we stayed by that shower curtain knowing we couldn’t see God, yet knowing He was close by anyway and waiting until the moment we finally became aware of Him again (because God is always by our side–He never leaves us).
If we whined and clawed and scratched at the door of apathy or the door of distractions or the door of anything that drives a wedge between us and God–if we would just desperately want to see God that bad that we would make noise and try to bring down a barrier by ourselves that cannot be brought down by our strength alone.
But God can bring it down.
What would our lives be like, and how would we change if we were as loyal to God as dogs are to us?
Maybe then we wouldn’t look at little black puppies with such admiration for their loyalty . . .