My pooch Fenway wears a – wait for it – Boston Red Sox collar. Bet you didn’t see that one coming, huh?
He didn’t choose this particular collar, in fact, he much prefers a nekked neck, But because his human daddy is a diehard Sox fan, Fenway received, for his first Christmas in our fam, an official handy dandy Red Sox logo collar.
The catch: it didn’t fit. Fenway has a S neck and the smallest size in the store was M. But because Fenway’s human mama is a theme fanatic (and more to the point, the pricey collar was unreturnable), onto his skinny little neck it went.
Our first foray into the neighborhood with the new collar revealed a problem. With a duck of his head just so, Fenway could easily shuck the collar to pursue a taunting squirrel or passing bicycle or whatever captured his fancy at any given moment.
After the tenth screaming-meanie pursuit of said escaping dog by Alpha Mama (me), Fenway finally caught on that although he could buck the system at will, he shouldn’t if he wanted his yummylicious peanut butter & apple flavored doggie treat when we got home.
For him the reward was pure heaven.
So Fenway made a choice. He stopped ducking his head just so and opted to remain within the parameters imposed by his collar and leash. He wanted to run free, sure, but he wanted something else more.
You know, at some point in time we’ll all be treading in Fenway’s boots (or should I say paws?): we want to run free, but we want something else more. We crave Papa God’s smiling approval. Not His love, mind you, for we’ll have that anyway no matter how many squirrels we chase.
Yet we – as a child of God – yearn to feel our Papa’s pleasure when we make good choices. Choices resulting from our decision to delve into, hear and obey His Word.
So the next time a temptingly fuzzy squirrel whizzes by, I need to remind my trembling self of the thing I want even more: a proud pat on the head from Papa God.
For me the reward is pure heaven.
How about you?
