Message 14: Don't Worry

Sometimes I give myself little pep talks without realizing it until after the fact. One car ride, when I was taking the dogs to stay at a friend’s house while I went out of town for one night, I found myself doing that very thing. 

As soon as the dogs saw packing begin, they were worried. Their worry grew by the time we got in the car, and both Peanut and Biscuit were expressing their angst with panicked whining.

So I said, “I’m not worried, guys. And if I’m not worried, and I’m the one with the plan, then you don’t need to be worried. After all, you know I’ll always do what’s best for you.”

It was one of those things that has an obvious God connection, but I didn’t catch it until I finished saying the words. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Oh… I thought and kind of prayed. So you’re saying I don’t have to worry either, because you have a good plan and you’re not worried about it?

When I said it to the dogs, it sounded so simple. Trust Mom. Mom’s got your back, so there’s no need to worry. But when I realized what I was asking, I realized it’s a whole lot more challenging than it sounds.

Are you a worrier?

Message 13: Don't Live In the Past

Biscuit has one thing he hates above all else: being left out. He will do anything—even other things he hates—if it means being part of the gang. He’ll barge right into the middle of things if he feels he’s being left out.

My theory is that it’s related to his past. Biscuit was in the pet store for 9 weeks before I adopted him. That’s a long time to be cooped up in a cage. It’s a long time to see people come in and choose someone else. It’s probably a lot of people who played with him, then put him back and left him there. In his formative third and fourth month of life, Biscuit learned over and over again that he didn’t want to be left out.

But I wish he would understand that now and for the rest of his life, he’s one of the family. Sure, Peanut and I may do our own thing from time to time, but it’s not a statement of rejection. It’s sad for me to leave him every day when Peanut and I go for our run, only to have him act like he’s coming along and then whine when we leave without him. If only he knew he wasn’t facing rejection!

I had a college professor who warned us not to let the scars of the past dictate future behavior. We all have our baggage. The experiences that made us a little more sensitive to certain things. Biscuit’s is obviously being left out. Mine is risking humiliation in sports. 

Whatever these wounds, they only become deeper when we focus on them and let them dictate the way we behave now. Were Biscuit to understand how much a part of this family he is, he’d be able to just play and enjoy himself while Peanut and I go for runs. Instead, he wallows in misery, pouring salt in his own wound.

How do you move on from your past?

Message 12: Avoid Temptation

I threw a tissue in the garbage can from across the room. I missed. Biscuit, who happens to have a taste for dirty tissues, watched the failed attempt and stared at the tissue in its resting spot right next to the trash can.

“Biscuit, don’t eat that,” I said. So he laid down, right where he was five or so feet away, put his head down on the floor between his paws, and stared at it longingly. But he didn’t move closer.

Until a few minutes went by and he decided to “get more comfortable” by spinning around three times and laying back down. I’m confident this was a ploy from the beginning, as he ended up laying back down only about three or so feet from the tissue. Again, he put his head down and stared longingly, unaware that I was keeping a keen eye on him.

Finally, unable to withstand the temptation any longer, he just stood up and started walking unashamedly toward the tissue. There was no sneaking, no ploy. He was just blatantly succumbing to his urge to eat the tissue. Until he heard me say, “Biscuit…”

He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and walked all the way to the other side of the room, where he laid facing away from the tissue. And from then on until I got up and actually put the tissue away, he forgot all about it.

You see, when temptation lingers around us, the worst thing we can do is focus on it and see how close we can get without actually falling for it. Like Biscuit, we’ll eventually realize we just really want that dirty tissue. But if we can flee it, listen to the correcting voice of our Master, get as far away as we can, and turn the other way, we’ll soon forget all about the temptation.

When I did throw out the tissue, I saw Biscuit looking at it with a look of recognition. Like, “Oh yeah! I wanted that tissue!” Indeed, he’d forgotten it, and now the temptation would be forever removed. When someday you’re reminded of a temptation you’d forgotten was even there, and you realize it’s no longer tempting you—you know you’ve fled well.

What helps you refocus when temptation is in your face?

Message 11: Listen to God

One year, I took Peanut and Biscuit to their first ever dog Easter egg hunt at a local pet store. They had to find treat-filled plastic eggs, and once they touched them with their noses, I could pick them up and put them in a bag.

After the Easter egg hunt, I saved some of the plastic eggs so I could use this as a challenge all year. At first I just hid them in fairly noticeable places. But as Peanut began to excel at the game, I started hiding them behind and under things so she’d really have to sniff them out.

One day, I hid the egg behind my CD player. Peanut searched and searched, but couldn’t find it. So it stayed there while I went to work and she got locked in the kitchen. Then when I got home, she started searching again. At one point, she got so close to it that I thought she had it, but then she kept on sniffing.

As she started to walk away from the right spot, I said, “No Peanut, you were so close! Turn back around and look where you just were.” These were complicated sentences for a dog to understand. But Peanut looked at me, turned around, and sniffed behind the CD player, finding the egg immediately. I was so impressed that she understood me and followed my directions!

If anyone else had given instructions like that to Peanut, there’s no way she would’ve followed them. The truth is, I don’t think she understood all the words exactly. She understood the sentiment behind them because she knows my voice, my commands, so intimately.

That’s the way we can listen to God. The more we listen and obey, the more we understand him. Even when his commands seem confusing or over our heads, when our ears are trained to listen and obey our master, we’ll know what to do.

When have you heard God speaking to you?