Where Do You Think You’re Going?
I have a confession to make: my dog is more socially determined than I am.
Let me set the scene. Jason's parents were visiting, and we were all gathered in the living room, food trays in front of us, enjoying dinner together. Meanwhile, Tess had been served her meal in the adjoining room, close enough to hear the laughter and smell the good food, but not quite with us. Well, apparently, Tess had a thing or two to say about that.
That crazy dog picked up her food bowl (without spilling a single bite, mind you), carried it across the floor, and set it down right in the middle of the living room. Then she looked up at us as if to say, "There. That's better," and went right back to eating. No drama. No apology. Just a dog who knew exactly where she wanted to be and did what it took to get there.
An Unyielding Grey
I thumbed through my Bible again, looking for some verse to leap off the page and shout, "This is the way—walk in it!" Silence.
I prayed until my knees ached. "Lord, just tell me what to do. Should I continue in this particular area of the ministry, or should I spend more time in this other area? Should we continue in our current "game plan" or pursue a new approach? A simple yes or no would be lovely!"
But heaven remained quiet. No burning bush. No writing on the wall. Just the persistent, foggy grey of uncertainty.
Have you been there? That spiritual twilight zone where you've done everything "right"—prayed fervently, studied Scripture diligently, sought godly counsel—and still find yourself standing at a crossroads without a traffic light in sight?
It's maddening, isn't it? Especially for those of us who like plans, clarity, and knowing exactly which box to tick.
Finding God in Lost Things
Have you ever lost something and searched everywhere, only to come up empty-handed? That's exactly what happened with my dog's favorite toy, Robby the Robot. This wasn't just any toy. It was a clever little contraption that would roll and wobble around, dispensing treats as it went. Tess adored it, probably because it combined two of her greatest loves: play and food.
But one day, Robby mysteriously vanished. At first, I wasn't too concerned. Tess has a habit of rolling and batting her toys into the oddest places, so I assumed he'd turn up eventually. However, as days turned into weeks, I became increasingly determined to solve the mystery of the missing robot.
I crawled on my hands and knees, peering under every piece of furniture. I checked behind bookcases, inside cupboards, and even among the many boots and shoes by the door.