My Welsh Corgi, “Tuesday,” loves to chase squirrels.
Poor thing, she has yet to catch one. The silly things run a third of the way up the tree and taunt her from above.
Sometimes though, I’m not in the mood for her to chase squirrels, especially at seven thirty in the morning when I’m, uh, not put together enough for the neighbors to see. So one glorious morning, Tuesday shot out the door.
“Tuesday!” Stop.” Funny how I’m concerned about the neighbors seeing me in my daisy décor pajama pants but I don’t mind them hearing me holler at my dog.
Tuesday came to a screeching halt and gave me the look.
“Get back here.” She stood so still, she would make a great candidate for yard decoration.
She looked toward the tree, then back at me. Slowly, ever so slowly, she moved toward me, sniffing the ground before her the entire way. Sniffing the trail of that squirrel she desperately wanted.
Just like me.
When through my conscience, God calls me away from the world’s temptations, how fast do I turn around? Do I ignore His voice? Do I stand in the middle of my life and deliberate? Do I reluctantly return to him, knowing I’m doing the right thing but wishing I could have had that squirrel?
I’d like to wish that I would do what the Hillsong lyrics from “Forever Reigns” say:
“Oh, I’m running to Your arms,
I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love
Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign.”
When does a child run to Mom or Dad? Usually when they realize they’ve gone too far, they are over their heads in what they can handle, and the thing that looked so interesting is actually scary and dangerous. They know instinctively Mom’s arms are a safe place to be. Sadly, like a child, my return to God is meandering, slow, breaking into a pellmell run only when i’m in a pickle and need His help or I suddenly realize what a good thing I’ve got going with God.
Once in a while, a child will run simply because they are delighted to see Mom and Dad. It’s a sad passage of parenthood when the children don’t run toward you as much. Our eyes grow teary when we see those videos of children running to military parents. Our hearts twist because there’s something deep within us that resonates with that utter delight and love between both parent and child.
My greatest delight as a dog owner is to see my happy Corgi bounding toward me, not because I’ve bribed her with a treat, but because she sees me and is delighted I am there.
I imagine God feels the same way about me.
Yet, all too often, our desires and curiosity draw us toward the ways of the world. When we’ve succumbed and we’re in over our heads from the consequences of our choices, we cry out to God. Oh how many times do we expect Him to reach down and pluck us out of the mess we’ve made instead of making the choice to simply run away? To run back to Him because we’ve realized once again that the riches of His love are always and forever enough.
We need a generation of Christians who, like Joseph’s flight from Potiphar’s wife, are willing to do a lot more running toward God, running away from the world’s wiles,
Running, not walking. No sniffing either. Running toward the Savior’s arms because we know His love is better than anything and in Him alone, can we find the joy, security and peace we crave.
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