Years ago, I would always take my kids running with me. They were too small to join the fun, so with my kids graduating baby-joggers along the way. I started with a single, grew to a double then made the plunge into a triple. No need to point out that we far exceeded the manufacturer’s recommended weight limit. Our pet, Sadie, always ran with me, acting as a mush-dog, offering well-timed assistance as I struggled to move that loaded stroller up hills.

Years ago, I would always take my kids running with me. They were too small to join the fun, so with my kids graduating baby-joggers along the way. I started with a single, grew to a double then made the plunge into a triple. No need to point out that we far exceeded the manufacturer’s recommended weight limit. Our pet, Sadie, always ran with me, acting as a mush-dog, offering well-timed assistance as I struggled to move that loaded stroller up hills.

Sadie and those strollers have left our life. Wembley has entered. So, now I get to teach a new pup the in’s and out’s of running.

Wembley absolutely loves the sight of her leash. She crouches in anticipation of traversing the streets when she spies it in my hand. And true to her sweet demeanor, she tries her with all her easily distracted determination to stick by my side.

“Stay with me,” I gently chide as we begin. We’ve had to stop for a few face to face talks about what “Stay with me” means. Darting ahead of me or across my stride to get to the other side of the street isn’t going to cut it. One fall will be her ticket to live in another home with another family.

As with most things in life, running with a puppy offer some great practical applications to my own trek with God.

• The pup is pumped to see me and even more excited to walk or run by my side. Hmm… Do I greet the Lord in the same manner way every day.
• She runs toward, not away, from the leash that will keep her anchored by my side. Unlike her, though, I’m not sure I’m always as eager for his leading. She struggles with distraction. Sometimes it’s wanting to greet another dog (not a bad thing at the right time), sometimes the hunter in her just can’t stop from going after a squirrel. The other morning she was drawn to the remnants of an over-served individual’s fun night out –

Yup … that’s what you think it is… not a good thing. Wembley couldn’t stop herself from having a good sniff and taste before I yanked her away. Yuck!

How many times am I distracted and drawn to the same things – even life’s vomit. Like Wembley, I often take my eyes off God and lunge for the distraction of the moment.

• By my side, she is safe. Trusting in her limited knowledge she is in danger. … Each time she comes up to a parked car, she gets skiddish, not sure what to do or where to go.

Super scary truck…. to a puppy.

She can’t see beyond the creepy vehicle, so she darts to the other seemingly safe side of the street that she can see, into dangerous oncoming traffic momentarily hidden by the parked car. “STAY WITH ME!” I yell, yanking her back so she isn’t hit.

In the same way, am I trusting in what I see rather than resting in/trusting what God sees and knows? Do I get the loving message behind a forceful yank? … or do I resent it. Hmmmm…..

• When she runs right next to me, the leash is loose. Her adventure is pleasant, safe, full of joy as she joins my stride. When she succumbs to fear, distractions, or has decided she knows a better way – the leash snaps taught as she strains to get her way. No need to go into that obvious comparison of my determination to get my way.

I’ve also noticed that the best time of the day to run with Wembley is in the early morning, when it’s dark – calm – when she sticks to my side. Then I ask myself, do I live like it’s early morning all day, every day? Where I’m comfortable staying close to His side, not able to see or to be scared of what’s ahead? I’m not sure. But as I watch Wembley grow in her ability and willingness to heel, comfortable on a lose leash rather than choking on a tight one, I hope that I will do the same with my Guide.

Thanks for walking the road with me. Feel free to yank me away from the muck when you see me heading that way :).

-Kay