Last week I took Libbie, the family dog, outside for one last opportunity to water or fertilize the lawn before I went to work. In lieu of regular work shoes, I had some casual flip-flops on so I could take her to the tether we have anchored into the ground. It’s about six feet from the door and we have to hold her by the collar until we get her there and hook her to that tether.

For whatever reason, I forgot about that part.

Instead, I just took for granted the regular routine and must have reasoned in my silly head that she would walk to that point with me and faithfully wait until I hooked her so she could do her business.

Nope. She did what most any dog in that situation would do. She ran.

Though she doesn't show it in this picture, Libbie is a runner. Would you run if you were suddenly "off the leash"?

Though she doesn’t show it in this picture, Libbie is a runner. Would you run if you were suddenly “off the leash”?

Libbie is a German Shorthair Pointer (GSP). I’ve read they can run upwards of 35 to 45 miles per hour. I’ve seen it first-hand and I knew I was in for a terrible time chasing her down. Not only that, I thought of all the bad that could come from the situation. She could get hit by a car on our busy street. She could run so far off that I wouldn’t be able to keep up and I certainly could not go into work until I had her home. She could get in a fight with another dog. She could get taken in by someone else and we’d never see her again. I’d become quite an unpopular person of the house with the wife and kids (though the cat may love me a bit more).

I thought about all this as I chased her three houses down and then back to my own. She kept running the other way and – by the time I was through another neighbor’s yard – she was on the other side of the pond! I did the only thing I could. I screamed for her to get back home. To my surprise, she started coming back!

She stopped at the patio of a neighbor’s house and looked in. I had hoped they would see her and come out to grab her collar. No such luck. She was off again.

She ran out front and was heading for an even busier cross street. Along the way, she tried to befriend a bicyclist who repeatedly told her to get away as he tried to pedal past her. Despite my pleading for him to “grab her,” he was uninterested despite Libbie’s continued badgering him several moments longer before finally racing back toward me.

I caught her soon after. As I held her collar, she tried to wiggle free. Fortunately, despite my exhaustion and panic, I was able to keep a strong grasp on her and guide her home. I saw some neighbors had come out to either cheer me on, help out or laugh at the buffoon who was chasing a GSP in his flip flops.

I thanked them for coming out the best I could as I passed them and did my best to save face. Not only was I embarrassed, I was beaten. I went in the house, sat down and prayed I wouldn’t have a heart attack as I resumed breathing and pulled my dew soaked socks from my feet. The remainder of the day (and for a few afterward), my knees ached from the sudden sprints and my lungs were chambers of smoldering crud.

As much as I wanted to resort to primitive disciplinary actions against Libbie and “teach her a lesson” about running, I didn’t follow through. She’s a dog. Though she’s smart and has been through training enough to be at least a little obedient, she’s a dog. For all she knew, since her idiot owner didn’t bother to hold her in his grasp, she ran.

She’s a dog. It’s her nature to run.

Since that time, I can’t help but think about how it parallels our human nature with regards to sin. We start our every day by venturing out into whatever area (perhaps we could call it a pasture) where God has providentially placed us. He’s tethered us to His word and given us the opportunity to be obedient. And just like Libbie pokes her nose in my garden on digs in the ground while she’s tethered despite her owners telling her that’s not allowed, we too find ourselves being disobedient by continuing to sin.

Considered in this perspective, I think it’s fairly certain how most of us would behave and react if we suddenly found ourselves unattached – even momentarily – from God’s grasp or released from His tether.  I think about that, and then I am so thankful that He’s promised never to allow that to happen!

For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. ~ Romans 8:38-29