We went for a walk, the puppy and I. It was late, the sun had set and the way was lit by street lights.
I was fed up with studying, and the family was fed up with her energy, so we went for a walk.
I decided that we both needed a longer walk than she'd been on before, so I took her a route she wasn't used to.
At first, she was happy, pulling a little too hard at the leash in her excitement and sense of discovery.
But the further we got away from her comfort zone, the less willing she was to go where I led her.
It reached a climax when we arrived at the local oval. She refused to go down on the oval with me, setting her face back the way had come, straining against the leash.
I knelt beside her and told she'd just have to trust me. I knew where we were going, even if she didn't, and I'd take her home safe.
She didn't understand, and continued fighting to go back the way we'd come. Many times, she stood up on her back legs, preferring that to following me.
Still, she did follow me. She was too small to do otherwise, my hold on her leash too firm.
She followed me, her reluctance obvious, her desire to go the familiar way clear as she continued to stop and turn around, looking back.
You could tell the moment she realized we were going home. We turned the corner at the shopping centre, up the main road. She stopped fighting to go back and started trotting a long happily.
More than that, she started straining at the leash to go faster, to pick up speed.
She was too eager. She wanted to run the rest of the way. Many times along the way I had to stop her, make her catch her breath and look around her for a bit. I knew that if she didn't, she wouldn't be able to walk the entire way.
The last stretch we run. Dog and human both aware that home was only a few feet away, running to cross the threshold.
When we got in, home after our long trip, the puppy ran start to her water bowl. She did not stop to find and greet the rest of the family, she went straight for the water, lapping it up keenly and enthusiastically.
As I watched her, I couldn't help but reflect on how similar our walk had been to my lifelong walk with God.
God is guiding me Home, He has promised a Home with Him, in Heaven, as His child.
Yet how many times does He have to kneel down beside me and tell me not to worry, to trust Him, because He knows the way and He'll get me there safely?
How many times have I stopped, staring back down the way we've come, wondering why He just can't take me home the familiar way, the way I expect?
How many times has He had to drag me, while I kicked and screamed?
Far too many times. More often then I've walked willingly.
Then, of course, there are the times I've caught sight of Home, I've realized that yes, He really is taking me there. Then, I've picked up and run, straining at my leash, wondering why He isn't going faster, why He keeps telling me to stop and rest, ignoring everything around me that He wants me to see, forgetting to just spend time with Him.
We haven't reached my home yet. We're still walking, still moving along. But I wonder, what will my reaction be when I make it Home?
Will my first impulse be to run to that Spring of Living Water that flows through His City from His throne? Or will I be distracted, looking around for loved ones lost?
I suspect that, like our puppy, I will run straight for those Waters. I will run straight to the Relief, Life and Love that only He can give, and my Heart will sing praises of Thankfulness to the One who brought me home.
And I can hardly wait.
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