My Foolish Dog

When I was about 10, our family got our first pet dog. Sammy was cute, friendly, energetic – and stupid. Some dogs can almost figure out that Col. Mustard did it with the wrench in the library. Not Sammy. We were surprised he even recognized his own name.

Although he was a few biscuits shy of a full box of Blue Buffalo Dog Bones, he had an uncanny ability to know when our front door would open. And his expert sprinting abilities allowed him to streak past whoever was foolish enough to open the door without blocking his path. He would escape about once a month, and each breakout would result in us scouring the neighborhood for   about a half hour so we could track him down and drag him home.

All this caught up with Sammy one day when one of our neighbors didn’t see Sammy bolt toward the front door and let him slip between his legs. My brother and I immediately set out to find the runaway, but he was already out of sight by the time we got our shoes and coats on. Then about a half hour into Sammy’s freedom party, one of our neighbors knocked on our front door and gave my mom – who wasn’t part of the search party – the bad news that Sammy had been run over by a car about eight blocks away. Did we want him to bring Sammy’s body back to us? My brother and I were devastated.

Think about how idiotically Sammy was acting. Why was he always trying to run away? What was he running toward? Or from? He had everything he needed at home. We were a loving family that fed him, took care of him, and showered all kinds of attention on him. What was missing? What on the other side of that front door was so enticing?

I think you can see where I’m going with this. We humans instinctively rebel against limits, including those from God. No one likes to be told what to do, and many people constantly look for ways to run away from requirements and toward the metaphorical front door just like Sammy did.

One of the biggest things people flee is the Christian faith which, unfortunately, is grossly misunderstood. Rather than being confining and restricting, when seen correctly, it offers a lifestyle of true spiritual freedom – freedom to live righteously, to be merciful, to have a pure heart, to be a peacemaker, to forgive those who wrong you, to be a light to others, to point people toward the salvation Jesus offers, to love God with all your heart, to love your neighbor, and so much more. Isn’t embracing a lifestyle like this better than constantly waiting for the front door to crack open so you can seek a different type of perceived freedom, one that can be deceptively tragic?  

In Sammy’s case, his desire to escape proved fatal. Clearly, he was foolish to always look for ways to run away from the best thing he had going. May I suggest the same might be said of those who constantly run from God and the love and forgiveness he offers?