My Little Runaway

This is our newest family member, Jake. Emily and I adopted him from a pound in Arkansas a little over a month ago. I'm a big fan of pet adoption, especially after visiting the pound to pick him up. It was heartbreaking. Anyway, I'm not sure why, but Jake is a whole different animal whenever he sees a leash. He goes nuts! So, the other day, he escaped from our backyard right before a walk. I know on the scale of life events, it's probably not that big of a deal. But, I really love my dogs, and would have been broken if we hadn't found him.

So, I do my best to learn from my life experiences, big and small. And, I know that the pain associated with losing a pet is minuscule to that of a child. However, I found myself really identifying with the father (God) in the parable of the prodigal son. I was honestly kind of offended that Jake ran away. We provide a great home with love, food, shelter, fun, exercise, discipline, adventure and everything a dog could ever want. So, I can't imagine why he would want to leave. And I thought, "Look at all that God offers me, and yet I, too, think there's something better on the other side of the fence." The prodigal son had everything he could ask for, but bailed on his family to party it up and run his life in to the ground.

One of the aspects of this experience with Jake that I'm most thankful for is that I'm the one who found him. Yes, I wanted to be furious with him for stressing us all out, but when I saw him walking around, I was elated. I yelled his name and he came. I picked him up and noticed that he was very wet and very muddy (still not sure where he visited during his hour of "freedom"). But all I wanted was for him to be safe with me, so I didn't even bother setting him down to let him in the backseat where blankets would keep him from making my car a mess. No, I threw him through my open, passenger-seat window, where he proceeded to rub his muddy body all over my nice, somewhat clean car. But, I didn't care about the mess, and I couldn't feel angry.

I think for that moment, my life was a parable of the love and grace of God. Like the prodigal's father (God), I called out to my wayward son/dog. When he heard me and came toward me, all I cared about was being with him again. I DID run to him. I DID willingly embrace and accept him in all his filthiness. I DID just simply long to be WITH him again. And for the first time, I understood why the prodigal's father didn't beat his son immediately.

And after we'd been home a while, I beat him. Not really. But, I wanted to. I'm not saying God feels THAT way. But, I did.

I have a feeling I'm going to learn a lot when I have an actual child. Scary.

-Matt