Delia, the Loving Hound

When Delia was a puppy, I had to constantly scold her. "No, we do not chew on Casey's remote control." "No, we do not pee on Casey's carpet." "No, we do not jump up on Casey's bed." "No, we do not rip Casey's couch to shreds and make him throw it away in the dumpster." The first six or nine months I had her was characterized by a constant back-and-forth of encouragement and discipline.

I felt like I was constantly laying down the law, bringing the swift hand of justice over and over again.

If you have been around animals enough, you know that you can really read them if you look at their eyes. You can see the difference of ignorance and rebellion. She had so much ignorance in her eyes. Once, I scolded her for using my kitchen as her personal latrine and I could see that she was flat-out shocked that her course of action would upset me. The look of fear in her eyes, along with her shivering in shame convinced me that I had been a bit harsh in my discipline. She just did not know the right thing to do yet. Part of her problem was that she had no real understanding of how to live life yet. She was young and she was learning.

But another part, the part that was so frustrating, was that she would blatantly push the envelope. She was off the leash, looking back as I called her, and I could see her decide to disobey me. Delia had it in her little dog mind that my plans were not all they were cracked up to be. She doubted my goodness as a master. My plans could not be trusted and my commandments simply were not applicable to her life.

I could tell that even when she obeyed it was because she feared the consequences of disobedience.

But then something happened in her. She broke. After months of discipline, protection, provision, and care she decided that I was on her side. She moved past the place of dreading consequences or dismissing my words.

I could be wrong but I think she actually wants to obey me now simply because she knows she is mine. She obeys me naturally because she loves me and that is it. My plans are not up for scrutiny, for judgment, for evaluation. My plans are what she accepts as the best of all possible scenarios for her, whether that means she gets a treat, a walk, or a few hours of solitude while I am out waiting tables.

That does not mean she obeys me perfectly, because she certainly has her days. What it does mean is that she wants to listen to me. She loves me and that alone makes my word worth heeding.

But she had to be broke first.

Are you claiming ignorance? Do you just plain old want to fight God? Or are you broke? The answer just may lie in your motivation. Why do you care what God says about your life?