Wednesday, March 8, 2017
Five days he's waiting. Five days he's ignoring someone who wants very much to care for the dog and get him to safety. But he can't stop focusing on what is no more despite a much rosier future.
Aren't we often like this? Personally, I'm sort of a master at staring at the door slammed shut in my face rather than the window open right by me, from where fragrant winds blow (or today, hurricane force gales).
Too often we approach God with a clenched fist, unable to open our empty palm and let the God of love fill it with the good gifts He longs to share.
The dog doesn't know what's coming, which is a chilling cold front. My friend does, and is eager to get him to safety. But the dog refuses, longing for the love of the owner that undoubtedly has rejected him forever.
It's painful to imagine this dog's misplaced devotion. It's sad what the dog is missing from what my wonderful friend has in store for him, which is Hope and a Future. Instead, the dog paces, runs away, and looks at the empty, dirty road. He has settled for a poor definition of love.
Sometimes we think our idea of what God is like is better than who God really is. We have an idea of what our good gifts should be, and how our future should look. But we don't know the Cold Front is coming and our God does. We don't know that we're looking at a lonely and dirty road, when a street of gold could be our destiny.
Today I hope the dog chooses safety. Today I hope I remember to unclench my fist. Today I hope you choose to turn to the One who longs to hold you in the palm of His hand.
May none of us settle for a poor definition of love.