"Fat dog can move!"
That was the primary thought bouncing around in my mind like a pinball as I went racing through the woods behind my house a few days ago. The "fat dog" in question is my faithful mutt of questionable lineage, Riley.
I had been working nonstop and wide open from early that morning: hospital visits in distant cities, calls on members and much time at the desk preparing for Sunday. And so, late in the afternoon, I decided to take a walk in the woods behind our house to clear my head. On a whim, I decided to take the dogs with me, Echo the Labrador (appropriately nicknamed "Chewy") and old, decrepit, fat Riley.
Now, Riley has been on a shock collar for a while since he likes to wander. So I removed the collar and put him on a leash for our walk. Once we had gotten pretty far back in the woods, I decided to let him off the leash and see if he would: A) stay nearby, or: B) come when I called.
As you have guessed from my opening sentence, the answer was: C) neither of the above.
Probably 500 yards (30 ticks, 22 brier gashes, 3 near coronaries) later, I caught him. Exhausted and perturbed, I cut through the woods and came straight home.
Pretty quickly, the home phone rang and I had to go on another pastoral call. I took my wife's cellphone since I could not find mine and, sure that it was in my office somewhere, I asked her to find it for me while I was gone.
I got back very late. When I arrived, Dana called me to the computer screen and showed me two blue dots. She said, "See this dot? This is us, here in the house. See this other dot? That is your phone, way out in the woods somewhere."
Forty-five minutes. In the dark. That is how long it took me to track and retrieve it. I am fairly certain I uttered several "Christian equivalency curse words" at Riley - "rotten," "unsanctified," "Philistine of a dog" - along the way. But I found the phone. It was too important for me not to.
And, as is so often the case, when my heart rate had slowed and my nerves calmed, the Lord seemed to whisper for me to pay attention and think in bigger terms.
We expend the greatest efforts on the things that matter most to us. I went running after a dog, then trekked through the woods in the dark to retrieve a phone. I wonder, does our fellowship with the Lord rate so high with all of us, or any of us?
Psalm 42:1 says, "As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God."
Panting for God. Thirsting for him like a deer thirsts after a stream of clear water. Oh, what anguish smites my heart as I realize that, so very often Christians, myself included, do not have that type of desire for the God who gave himself for us on the cross of Calvary. Even worse, we probably do not even recognize that failure.
I said earlier, "We expend the greatest efforts on the things that matter most to us." That is a pretty good test for us to determine what our priorities are. What do we expend our greatest efforts on? Money? Possessions? Physical health? Popularity? Entertainment? Where does God fit on the list?
We have all eternity to enjoy heaven. We only have a little time to show God by our efforts and pursuit of him that he means more to us than anything else.
Bo Wagner is pastor of the Cornerstone Baptist Church of Mooresboro, N.C., and the author of several books available at www.wordofhismouth.com. Contact him at 2knowhim@cbc-web.org.