Getting Ahead

I hesitate to write this blog because it is yet another blog about a dog.  Although I am reading scripture, praying, journaling, involved in community, and have weekly accountability meetings with a couple of men, the Lord seems to be speaking to me most clearly, at this time, during my walks across the countryside with my dog.  I am not sure why that's the case, or how long it will continue, but I am afraid that my blog may have a few more "dog entries" before long.

The dog, Oreo, is growing so fast these days and is now able to climb over most of the stiles herself.  It has been fun to watch her grow in size and in confidence.  She is no longer completely terrified when we meet a larger dog and approaches the horses and cows we meet on her own.  She even went so far as to chase a flock of sheep the other day, which she thought was great fun. 

A couple of days ago I was out again with Oreo.  As we walked the now familiar paths she ranged farther afield.  At times she was 50-100 feet ahead of me.  I smiled at her confidence, and watched as she climbed up and over a stile at the far side of the field.  She looked back at me just before she dissappeared over the other side, as if to say, "Are you coming!?"  When I came to the stile and looked over, she had wandered on ahead even further down the path we often take.  What she didn't know is that I was going a different direction that day. 

I had a different destination in mind.  The beginning stages of our path were the same, but I decided to take a different path through some fields that we had never walked before.  Oreo was running ahead.  I enjoyed her exuberance and laughed to myself as I watched her explore.  I was less amused when I was calling her to follow me but she kept to her own path. 

Later on the way home, I was reminded of the danger of getting ahead of God.  How often do I run on ahead assuming that the path today is the same as yesterdays?  How many times to I get confused when He turns left when I thought we were going right?  How many times am I impatiently looking back at Him asking, "Are you coming with me or what?!"  I need to learn to fix my eyes on Him.  I need to wait upon the Lord instead of assuming that the natural or familiar path is the one that He has marked for me.

As I approach the new year I am wondering about the future and what it will hold.  I am hoping that this year I will not get ahead of God. 

Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks

I love to walk across the countryside.  I enjoy being out in nature with just my thoughts and my God.  As I walk, I pray, and my prayers are sometimes shaped and triggered by the things that strike me as I walk.  It could be a flower, the weather, something in the sky, or some kind of animal behavior.  The countryside is mostly rolling farmland that gently slopes down toward the cliffs at the sea.  There are well worn paths cutting through the fields and across the hedgerows.  In order to cross the boundaries you have to climb over stiles.  Most are made of stone and are quiet old.  It has been fun to explore the various paths through the fields and along the coast.

Lately, I have had additional company in the form of our new puppy.  She minds pretty well these days and has been an interesting addition.  I have been training her to go over the stiles.  Over the last week or so she has really be catching on.  It's been amusing to have her clamor up to the top only to be stymied by the last big step.  She has to wait for me to help her over the last bit.  This is all well and good for now, but she will soon be too heavy for me to do this easily over the tallest stiles.  However, there is a solution near at hand. There are conveniently located gates through which the livestock can be driven near these tall stiles.  So, today I decided to have her go under the gates and wait for me on the otherside while I went over the stile.  She already knows how to sit and to stay so I led her under the gate and told her to sit and stay while I backtracked and made my way over the stile.

Before I had made my way down the stile, there was a little face peering over the top of the stile inquisitively from the field I had just left.  Instead of trusting that I was not going to leave her, she had quickly and quietly followed me back to the stile to cross over the way we always had.  She repeated this behavior at the next stile as well.  It seems it was just too much for her to believe that I really meant the instructions I had given her, that I wanted her to do something different than she had done before.  Shea already "knew" what I wanted her to do from previous experience.

As I laughingly reflected on this talking about it alternatively with my dog and with my God, I was suddenly struck by the lesson.  How often do I assume what God wants me to do instead of fixing my eyes on Him and waiting for His direction?  How often do I assume that the way I have always done it is the right way, even when He seems to be directing me to do something different?  Going over the stiles was the best way for the puppy when we started our walks together, but it is time for her to start learning how to do it differently.  She is growing, and is ready for a new way.  It will take time for her to unlearn the old way and for the new way to feel right, to become the new normal.  It should be relatively easy as she is a young dog who is full of trust and a desire to please.

I wonder how easy it will be for this old dog to be trained by my Master.  May I be filled with trust and a desire to please Him.  May I learn to listen and not just to assume because I have "been down this path before".   May I surrender my pride and self-reliance, my feeling that I know the right way.  May I be willing and able to receive His direction and to follow His instructions even when they don't "feel right" as He leads me in paths of righteousness for His Name's sake.

Walking Through the Corn

I took a walk recently with my children through the countryside near our house. We were trying a new path that a friend told us about. About an hour into our walk we found ourselves on the edge of a corn field. We could see the woods on the far side of the corn so we knew we were heading in the right direction. We could also see the path leading into the corn and towards the woods. So, we set off. It wasn't long before the path intersected others and branched off in myriad directions, it even became difficult to tell the difference between the path and the spaces between the corn rows. We were in the middle of the field with the corn stalks high over our heads when my kids asked me to stop. That was the easy question, the next one was harder, "Daddy, are you sure we are heading the right direction?"

I had to admit that I really wasn't sure, but that I felt pretty confident that if we kept moving in the direction we were heading that we would come out roughly where we wanted to be, if not exactly on the edge of the woods. So, we plunged ahead, careful to stick to what we thought was the path and avoiding damage to the ripening crop. Before long we suddenly stepped out of the field and found ourselves near the wood. There was a collective sigh of relief and we continued on our walk. On the way back, we avoided the cornfield altogether.

In my life I find that the long-term objectives are clear, but in the doing of the tasks and the living of life I feel like I'm in over my head. I know where I want to get to ultimately, but the goal that seemed so within reach is now out of sight. Am I heading in the right direction? Am I lost? My general response is to plunge ahead hoping that I'm on the right track. How often do I lower my head and keep walking rather than stopping to ask my Father if I am on the right path? I love that my kids asked me. I didn't know the answer, but Our Father who art in heaven always knows the path. He is never lost. I don't have to plunge on in ignorance hoping that my foolish confidence will take me the right way. I can ask my Father for help. I can walk with Him throughout the day. So, today I choose to place my hand in His and let Him lead me in the right path for me...even through the corn field.