We love our dogs. Scooter and Teeny were the cutest puppies ever – all white fluff and big coal-black eyes. That was then. Today, we still love them, but at a year old, they have entered puberty and they have a mind of their own. They don’t understand time out, so they are finding themselves more and more in the doghouse.
We pamper our big balls of fur. They each have their own pens and personalized dog houses. They have comfort mats in the dog houses, water and plenty of food. They have cover from the storms and safety from danger. Other dogs would give anything to come live with us. Unfortunately, Scooter and Teeny don’t always see it that way.
It became crystal clear yesterday (on Thanksgiving) when a wild hog ran onto our yard causing the dogs to go wild. They would have fought that hog, to protect us, I’m sure of it, possibly causing great harm to themselves if we hadn’t put a stop to it and put them in their pens. Remarkably, the dogs were taken care of (unscathed) and eventually the hog was, too (that’s a different story).
I’m reminded how often I feel like I’m in the doghouse. Despite all my efforts, I continue to mess up. Fortunately, I have a loving God that sees past my imperfections and continues to provide refuge in the presence of trouble even if it means he puts me in a comfortable doghouse.
Psalm 46:1 “God is our refuge and strength, A very present help in trouble.”