Dusty and I watched the sunrise this morning, waiting for the pink and orange streaks to sneak behind the black silhouettes of our backyard trees. We sat silently as the darkness deliberately moved out of the way when the light pushed its presence from behind and placed itself before us. A generous gift, a new day to begin! We didn’t waste time; when we noticed that the thermometer noted a rising temperature, we grabbed the gift and ran with it, or rather walked with it!
Halfway down the driveway we heard some frantic yelps from coyotes in the distance. Dusty glanced around, sniffed the closest pile of snow and promptly left his mark on top of it. Whatever he heard, he clearly wanted to declare his dominance over it.
We resumed our walk, a haphazard tugging and pulling, zigging and zagging about the road. Dusty didn’t want to miss the tracks in the snow there, and over there, and still over in that spot there! I didn’t want to skid across the icy patches poking through the snow. This would be the moment where, according to my dog whisperer husband Brad, I need to show who’s in charge. That may be true, however, when I call, “Dusty,” and he looks up at me with what I know for certain is his “this is the greatest walk I have ever been on in my life” look, how can I halt his explorations?
The snowplow that cleared our road created mini snow banks, which became fascinating obstacles for Dusty to choose to climb over and fall into, literally face first. He didn’t seem to notice that he was accumulating sticky snow under his belly, along his legs, and under his chin. He delighted in discoveries even as he became a disheveled mess.
As often as Dusty either stayed behind for a better sniff, or ran ahead for another find, I tried to maintain a steady stride and a direct route. However I fear this little comical charade I tried to pass off as a walk probably made my neighbors chuckle as we passed their houses.
I too began to laugh to myself as I thought about the scripture I had read earlier from Psalm 139:3-5 (NLT), “You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. Every moment you know where I am. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. “
I had closed my Bible when I noticed the first light of dawn. How quickly the day began to illustrate the words I had read. If someone noticed the walk I take with you Lord, they too might chuckle at my stubborn tugs and pulls, as I demand more time to pursue my desires and wants. Often you see me look up to you filled with eagerness and delight as I share thankful prayers, or with worries and fears brought forth by the day. However, I don’t take the time to listen to you, to truly understand where your gentle leadings might take me. How often have I chosen to climb over the obstacles, to slog sloppily and stubbornly into areas that I had an inkling I shouldn’t try? Yet you never let me go, you have walked with me keeping me on a steady and direct route. Your connection to me by your hand constantly retrieves me, finds me and takes me home.
This evening Dusty is snuggled next to me on the couch in the family room. He plopped his head on top of my Bible as I began to type these words.
As I close this simple meditation for today, I am drawn to the beginning verses of Psalm 139, “O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my every thought when far away.”
Thank you Lord, for always moving the darkness out of my way, for pushing your presence constantly within me, so that I may always look to you knowing that “this is the greatest walk I have ever been on in my life.”
For today, I have found my peace.
Walking With Dusty and Dee 