I heard Rocco do the stereotypical beagle howl for the second time ever last week. The first time was when we drove past an ice cream shop with a plaster cow out front. It involved me saying, “Shh, Rocco, people can hear you, it’s fine, that’s not a real cow.” He didn’t believe me.
The second time was last Thursday when we had gone away to spend some time in the mountains. We had been at our rental for about 10 minutes when I let him outside and I heard the howl. This was the situation:
Initially, I let out a big exhale. Yes, it was good to be away from the noise, able to really focus without external triggers, to experience the cool air and just *be*.
Then, I looked away for just a moment and when I went to see what Rocco was doing, he was on the other side of the fence. He had wiggled under the fence. I uttered an expletive.
There he was, tracking the scent of every deer, bunny, and squirrel that had scurried through those woods. I ran after him, calling his name and slightly afraid of getting a tick, but he was focused on that scent. He was going fast and close to the ground and I’m confident that he couldn’t even hear me calling his name. I was sure he would be lost forever.
And then I spotted his tail in the midst of the sea of brown leaves.
Rocco has many defining features, but a noticeable one is his tail: it sticks up about a foot higher than the rest of his body when he’s close to the ground. Most importantly, it’s looks like someone just dipped the tip of it in white paint. See below.
I watched his little tail actually coming back in my direction. He was still sniffing, still trying to track the scent, but he was headed back to where it was strongest. Eventually, he came right back to where I was and let me pick him up and bring him to safety.
Because you see, Rocco is a hunting dog. Yes, he gives great cuddles and is pretty cute. But at his core, he is meant to track and to hunt. That is what God made him to do.
And yet, the same thing that led Rocco away from me (that annoying nose) was what brought him back to me. As excited as he was, Rocco was never *really* out of my sight because of his God-given bright white tail. God had planned for that.
That is the story of our relationship with Jesus, isn’t it? Certain things lead us away from him— relationships or addictions or curiosity or wounds— and it’s those same things that bring us back to him.
By our Baptism, we have been given a metaphorical bright white tail. We are never outside of God’s sight. He is not worried, he is not panicking when we run away. The only question is: will we honor our God-given gifts and allow them to bring us back to Him?
I know for me, my darkest moments have been a real turning point in growing closer to God. I have not always followed my nose— I have not always been willing to come back to God after tasting just a little bit of that freedom. But at other points, my pain and my suffering are exactly what brought me to Him. That is what has brought me to my knees, acknowledging that I cannot possibly do it on my own.
It’s not just the bad things, though. When we experience success, when things go our way, we face a crossroads. Will we attribute our successes to ourselves, to our own cunning sensibilities and hard work? Or will we acknowledge that we have collaborated with our God-given gifts and are truly surrendering to our loving God?
That crossroads is what Jesus called the narrow path. It’s a tough one. And it’s not one we can choose on our own: we need help. Just as Rocco needed me to carry him back to safety, we need to Holy Spirit.
And don’t worry, I ended up outsmarting the beagle. I gave the good dog a bone, tied him up to the porch, and entered into my own God-given purpose: sabbath rest, reading a book in a chair and sipping some coffee. God will outsmart you too… and praise Him for that.
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Love this. You do have “a way with words”.
Your insight is spot on.
What a wonderful gift you have.