Once I had a dog. I saw him as a puppy and loved him and wanted the best for him. I bought him, brought him to the vet and the groomer for all his shots and cleanings and then I brought him into my home, fed him from my hand, and laid him in a soft dog bed that I had purchased for him.
I adopted him because I wanted his company. I enjoyed his look and his personality and hoped that we would enjoy our life together. I imagined the walks, the snuggles, the times playing together. He was young, but I was hoping we would spend many years together. I put a new fence in the backyard, bought him a collar, I filled my pockets with treats for him and even cleaned up his vomit and waste.
When he was young, he chewed the couches and the laces out of my boots, but I barely punished him- I knew that he was young and didn’t know. I bought him chew toys and bouncy balls and replaced my boots, and I put some valuable things up out of reach so that he wouldn’t be tempted.
I was proud of my dog and wanted to walk with him in public so that he would be admired and a friend to the neighborhood. I wanted him to enjoy his life and enjoy me as I enjoyed him.
But my dog continually resisted me. Though I was faithful, he had no faith in me. He did not enjoy the treats I bought him. He rejected my touch. He preferred to sit alone, and he did not respond when I called.
Though I gave him plenty of room to do his business in the yard, he continued to urinate on the carpet. I put plastic down, but it seeped under and into the wood below the carpet. I replaced the floor and even the subfloor at great expense, but he continued to have the same habits. My house smelled continually like urine.
He refused to listen to me. When I tried to be affectionate, he would ignore me or run away. When I fed him, he turned up his nose and refused the food I offered. When I slept, he would dig in the trash or take food from the counter.
When I tried to put the collar or a leash on him, he rolled over and howled as though I was trying to kill him. If he could, he would escape and run away and get into trouble all over the neighborhood.
Still, I loved him. He was only a young dog, I said, he didn’t understand. I cleaned up his messes and I spent time wooing him- I tried every brand of food until I found a variety he seemed to enjoy. I kept treats and toys in my pocket so that whenever he came close to me, I could reward him- so that perhaps he would realize that the good things he loved came from me. I was determined to convince him that I was trustworthy.
But he would not believe it, in fact, he began to hide from me. He slunk behind the kitchen table and under the desk. He would eat the food I left only after I was at work. He changed from being apathetic toward me to being suspicious.
I thought perhaps he was in pain- I spent an entire morning gently trying to get him into the car and took him for a checkup. The vet examined him kept him for observation, and released him as a young dog in perfect health. But when we returned, he was worse than ever.
His suspicion seemed to turn to hatred. He urinated on the chair I always sat in. He pulled my coat down and shredded it. He would follow behind me and bark at me, his hair raising up, taking nips at me if I wasn’t looking. Always, he would run out the door if he got a chance. Several times he was caught by the local animal control and I would pay to have him released and cleaned up.
But still I waited. I stopped trying to pet him but I kept feeding him, and I kept putting water out. I washed his blanket, changed his bedding, and still put the food out daily, and I still enjoyed seeing him enjoy the bed, his food, and his toys, even though he did not acknowledge that I had provided them for him. I still tried to talk nicely to him. I tried to create an atmosphere in the home of peace so that he would feel safe.
I had resigned myself to loving this dog that hated me, I had chosen him and was committed to being faithful to him for the rest of his life, but my heart was sad that he had no love for me in return.
But then, he attacked my son.
What can I do with this dog? Though I love him, he hates me. Though I provide for him, he is neither thankful nor trusting. He continually wishes to leave, though there is no life for a wild dog in my city. If he will not trust me, if he will not stay, and if he will do evil to everyone who lives in this house and neighborhood, what can I do with him?
The Lord is our maker. He loves us and provides for us. He gave us this good earth and the blessings of life- but we have refused to thank him or honor him. He teaches us the way we should go, but we refuse to obey.
If we continually resist Him, he will resist us. If we continually accuse him of being unkind- he will remove his kindness.
If we say “He is not there, he does not care,” enough- He will not be there for us, or care for us. He is long-suffering but he will eventually give us what we ask for- Our own will. And man’s will is not good the way God’s will is.
But those who trust in the Lord will find him trustworthy. Those who say, “You are good and able and just” will find his goodness and loving hand because he has called himself a Good Father and would love to be that to anyone who believes.
Jeremiah the prophet had this to say in Lamentations chapter 2:
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
…
For the Lord will not
cast off forever,
but, though he causes grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
for he does not afflict from his heart
or grieve the children of men.
…
Let us test and examine our ways,
and return to the Lord!
Let us lift up our hearts and hands
to God in heaven:
What do you believe about the Lord? What do you say about him? I hope that my story will persuade you that He loves you and is trustworthy. If you have been ungrateful or suspicious or tried to run away from him, today is the day. Lift your hands and your heart to Him, and I know He will answer you.
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