The other evening I was sitting outside on the front porch, having a visit with my friend Sylvia, when our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a tiny, four-legged creature greeting us with a series of loud barks. We looked up to see a miniature Chihuahua, whose ears seemed twice the size of its body, walking up the middle of the street, sporting quite the attitude of sassy independence.
Fearing that our furry friend was certain to be hit by a car, we called it over, only to discover that its red collar was adorned with a jingle bell instead of an identification tag. With no way to contact the owners, we set out to try and find them on foot. I picked up the dog (whom we had quickly dubbed as “Taco”) and Sylvia and I (along with my daughter, who is never one to miss out on an adventure) set off to knock on neighborhood doors. After a few unsuccessful attempts, a couple was able to direct us to where they thought the dog lived.
As we followed their directions and approached what we hoped was “Taco’s” residence, a man was outside mowing the front lawn. He kept looking up at us and smiling as he continued to push the mower through the grass. Finally, he could sense that we wanted to talk with him, so he stopped to hear what we had to say. When we asked him if this was his dog, his smile turned to a look of confusion, followed by disbelief, then relief, and then back to a smile again. “Oh my gosh,” he said, “I thought you guys had a dog that looked just like mine. I couldn’t believe it. I was getting ready to go inside and get “Suzie” to show you how similar they were.”
Well, he thanked us profusely, telling us that he had no idea how or when she had gotten loose, but that she had a habit of taking off on her own to investigate. Then he took his little wanderer in his arms and scolded her in a sweet, sing-song voice – clearly full of gladness to have her safe and back where she belonged. Sylvia and I then returned to our perch on the front porch and had a good laugh as we replayed the events of the evening.
This morning, I found myself going back over the story in my mind – only this time, thinking how often I can be like little Taco-Suzie. I stray off on my own, turning my back on my Owner, with little thought for wisdom or safety. I foolishly wander from home, venturing out beyond the safe boundaries that have been set for me, oblivious to the danger I am placing myself in. Although I may not share the over-sized ears that our furry friend possessed, I do share the same rebellious nature. Fortunately, my Master is never unaware of my straying. He is aware of my coming and my going; He is familiar with all my ways. I cannot be hidden from His sight or separated from His love. And when I am led back home, my Father lovingly disciplines me, gladly receives me, and graciously restores me to His presence.
