Walking the Dogs, part 2

I decided to start blogging again this morning and realized when I looked at the entries that blogging, like most things in life, is both an art and a discipline. The fear of not putting my “best stuff” on this blog keeps me from doing it. Ironically, just doing it is the way you get your “best stuff” out there.

Now, back to the dogs. . . 

I was walking them this morning (and, yes, they’ve been walked many times since that last time I blogged in May about taking them on a walk!), and when we first started they were yanking on the leashes, straining to break free, and whimpering at being held back. Maggie, the natural hunter of the two, had her nose to the ground immediately on the trail of some unknown animal just off the side of the road. Scooter, ever the city dog, kept his paws firmly planted on the pavement, but was still straining to keep ahead of Maggie. He wasn’t hunting, he just wanted to be in front.

After we went around the block a couple of times, they completely settled down into a normal routine. They quit straining, quit whimpering, and quit sniffing for new smells.

Then I decided to go down a side street that I hardly ever take them down. The change in scenery made them go crazy and they started straining and whimpering again. Maggie, who had stayed on the street on the second lap, immediately went to the side of the road sniffing again. Scooter even jumped down in the gully and began to follow a trail.

Seeing this, I thought of my friend, Pete Bowell, who told me about the five felt needs of adolescents, one of those being the “need for new experiences.” (Sidebar blog: The older I get, the more I realize that the five felt needs of adolescents are the five felt needs of all people, but that’s another blog for another day -- or month at this rate.) As I watched the dogs strain toward new smells and scenery, I realized that people aren’t that different. We get complacent and settle into routines. We just go round and round the block. Some of this is the discipline we need in life, but some it is the fear of the unknown, which can cripple our sense of adventure. When new side streets and smells come across our well-worn path, we strain for them. When the new experience is healthy it leads to discovery. When the new direction is unhealthy, it can lead to destruction. 

Lord, show us the direction of discovery and keep us from becoming too complacent. Give us the discipline to resist the streets that lead to destruction. And walk beside us as we seek to follow Your footsteps into the places where You have already been and still are.