Lessons from a Goofball

Sunny with an invigorating chill, it was a perfect day to be outdoors. I grabbed a jacket and pulled on a crocheted band to keep my ears warm. Then I looked at our dog, Emma-the-Goofball-Mastiff. I love Emma, but we have diametrically opposing goals when it comes to our outings. While I’m seeking some peace and quiet, Emma is on the lookout for a heaping helping of mischief. 

   For this very good reason, I considered leaving her at home, but she was so eager to join me I couldn’t do it. As she propelled us out the door that afternoon, I pretended to be in charge. But we both knew the truth.

     On this particular day, however, for reasons known only unto her, Emma decided to humor me by offering up a fairly convincing imitation of an obedient pet. As we went on our way, I thought about all the completely-in-control dog owners I see out and about with their well-mannered pups. With Emma clomping along beside me, I could totally picture myself as one of those people. I had even remembered to bring a plastic bag to use for clean-up. Dog owner of the year, move over. But then, right in the middle of my fantasy, as we reached the end of the street and turned toward home, I was yanked abruptly back to reality.

     Emma spied a couple strolling down the sidewalk in our direction. The fact that they were on the other side of the street and still quite far from us did not deter her from racing to make their acquaintance.

     I struggled to hold the beast back, but she kept going, dragging me along on her quest. As I stumbled after her, my crocheted headband slipped over my eyes. Since my hands were occupied, one clutching the leash and the other a now-full plastic bag, I was unable to push the stray accessory back into place. And so I barreled blindly toward our surprised neighbors, hollering, “It’s okay! She won’t hurt you!”

     Emma, apparently remembering she was masquerading as well-trained, stopped in front of her new friends and wagged her greeting. I, on the other hand, propelled by my forward momentum, not to mention temporarily unable to see, narrowly missed hurtling into them. Or smacking them with a sack of poop. 

     So here is the obvious question— why in the world didn’t I let go of the leash? Hanging on did not prevent Emma from reaching her destination. It didn’t even slow her down. My effort to control did nothing except take me where I didn’t want to go.

     Hmmm… the whole scenario sounds a bit too familiar. It turns out my dog is not the only thing I erroneously imagine I’m in charge of. There are a few more. Things like the present, the future, other people’s opinions of me, and other people.

     I know God is in control, but circumstances can blind me to that fact as surely as a headband slipping over my eyes. Losing sight of this truth causes me to believe the lie that it’s up to me to stop all the stuff I imagine I’m in charge of from going in the wrong direction. When I perceive it is, I tighten my grip and struggle to make life go the way I want. It often doesn’t, resulting in me being yanked toward worry. And just like that, same as with Emma, what I’m trying to control is controlling me. 

    Through my goofball dog, the One who is in charge has given me a clear picture of what I have to do to end this madness— let go. If I don’t, worries will drag my thoughts to unwanted places. If I do, I can be still. And know that God is God. Either way, he’s in control. So the obvious question is— why in the world would I not let go?

Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10