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3 Things This Puppy Taught Me About Walking With God

3 Things This Puppy Taught Me About Walking With God

Mar 12, 2026

Through the daily struggle of training a new puppy, God revealed something unexpected: my resistance to obedience looks a lot like Scout when he tries to pull away from his leash. I’m learning what it means to walk worthy of our calling—not perfectly, but together with God.

 

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love…  

—Ephesians 4:1-2

So, some exciting news…we got a puppy! I’m still not entirely sure this is good news. The last time I had a puppy I was 20. Things were a little different then. There were few responsibilities. Sleep was overrated. And I had plenty of time. 

Now, I’d pay real money for a good night’s sleep. Time is at a premium, and I have more responsibilities than I care to admit. So what made me think this was a good idea? Not to mention that I’m significantly older now.

So with a momentary lapse in my faculties and the pure cuteness of this adorable little dog—here we are. Scout is officially a family member. A few days in and I think we’re finally getting used to each other. 

Now, we are training. Leash training. Command training. Potty training. Crate training. Lots of training. 

The Struggle

Today, I took him for a walk. It’s been a constant struggle to get him to stay with me instead of pulling away. Walking beside me is an important training exercise to accomplish. He pulls and tugs to try to go his own way, but I apply gentle pressure to keep him in line with my steps. He whines, tries to run ahead of me, then stops and digs his heels in the ground. He’s a strong puppy. But with consistent training, the experts tell me he will eventually succumb to my way. 

God uses everyday moments to teach me significant lessons.

I’ve been meditating on Ephesians and what it means to walk with God. As I was training Scout to walk beside me, I heard God say, “Look at how he pulls away and tries to go his own path. You do that, too. Listen to me and submit to my leadership just as you want the dog to submit to yours.”  

It’s true. Like Paul said in Romans 7:19: “For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing.”

There is deep within me a desire more money and more things. I feel the need to work hard so I can make those things a reality. But God’s word says I am to seek first his kingdom and trust him to provide what I need. At other times I feel pulled to seek recognition instead of God’s presence or experiences instead of God’s power. And each time God’s hand of correction is firm.

Training Scout has shown me more about myself than I wanted to see.

 

Practice…

It takes patience and repetition to learn good habits. We don’t get it right the first time. Scout needs the regular exercise of walking beside me. Of going his own way and being pulled back to my side. He needs to practice walking to match my gait, my speed, and my direction. As he learns my ways, the walks become easier. 

Submitting to God means giving up my own way. It means making the choice to bend to his will. God’s grasp is firm, but gentle.

No discipline is enjoyable while it is happening—it’s painful! But afterward there will be a peaceful harvest of right living for those who are trained in this way.  —Hebrews 12:11 NLT

Obedience takes practice. It is active forward motion. Practicing habits that lead to transformation. Over time, I begin to feel the stress lighten. The discomfort diminishes. Before long I am walking beside him keeping in step.

 

Patience…

One of the lessons I’m teaching Scout is to wait patiently while I open his kennel. But, sometimes he whines and cries to try to get his way. When he does this, I turn my back. His desire is for me to hear him, to notice him. But I don’t give in to his whims of wanting to get out of the crate. I wait patiently for him to stop. As soon as he quiets down, I open the door.

Just like Scout, I find myself crying and whining about the things God does or hasn’t done. But those cries are demands for attention—it’s me allowing my emotions to run rampant without restraint. These cries reveal my true heart. I’m no longer seeking God to build a relationship. Instead, the whining shows me a rebellious heart that wants only what God can give.

 

Trust…

Scout pulls away because he doesn’t trust me yet. He doesn’t know that just beyond the yard lurks all kinds of danger. If I allow him to go his own way and do whatever he wants without restraint, he could end up hurt or even dead. His safety is a priority, so he has to learn obedience by listening and following my lead. When Scout learns to listen and obey, eventually he will be able to go anywhere with me.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. —John 10:27 ESV

Just like I have a purpose in mind as I train Scout, God has a purpose in mind for my life. Training is uncomfortable. Submission is not fun. It can be downright frustrating and even painful sometimes. But the reward is worth the effort. Trusting God when I can’t see a way forward takes practice and determination. It takes listening and obeying even if it doesn’t make sense to me.

 

Yesterday, Scout walked beside me for almost a full minute before he pulled away. It was just a moment—but we both felt it. That ease. That rhythm of moving together without fighting. I know God is pleased, when I finally stop digging my heels in and just walk. I think that’s what Paul meant by walking worthy of the calling. Not perfectly. Not without stumbling. Just—together.

 

This week, notice moments when you’re pulling away from God. Write down one specific area where you’re resisting God’s direction. Then ask: what would it look like to walk in step with him today?

 

If this encouraged you, share this article with a friend!

Why You Feel Empty Despite Having God’s Spirit Within

Why You Feel Empty Despite Having God’s Spirit Within

Feb 19, 2026

Many believers walk through life feeling spiritually exhausted and empty despite knowing that God’s Holy Spirit dwells within.  Why do we struggle to access God’s strength? How can we learn to trust?

“Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”  —Ephesians 3:20-21

Last week, during my observation of the birds, I was drawn into thinking about the resistance that builds strength in their wings. It made me wonder about the invisible force that keeps the birds aloft. And how strong wings help them fight gravity (which keeps me tethered to the earth) and guide them around obstacles. 

 

There is power in their wings they never knew was there. They only needed to be pushed out of the nest to begin harnessing that power. 

 

Empty 

I often wonder if believers live in a vacuum. Endless social media scrolling leaves us thirsty for human interaction. Negative news reels remind us that the world is falling apart. Even in the day to day, hum-drum life, monotony can make us feel depleted. Why do we always feel so empty?

 

We give and give and give to those around us without ever stopping to fill our own cup. Maybe we have time to squeeze in a Bible study here and there. A quick glance at the verse for the day. But it’s never enough to feel full. To leave the table patting our bellies—thanking God for all he has given. We’re always left wanting. 

 

Yet, the birds teach us a powerful lesson. The strength is there. Within us. But, in order to access it, we have to fall out of the nest. 

Falling Fast

Falling is not fun. Have you had that dream where you’re falling, and you wake up with your heart racing like you’ve run a 100 yard sprint? Or what about when you trip and fall in real life? In front of a group of people? They look at you like you’ve grown two heads because you did what they hoped they’d never do. (Yes, it’s happened to me, too.)

 

Falling can be embarrassing when you are supposed to already know how to walk. No one laughs at a toddler when they fall down. At my age, I’ve had years of practice walking. But one stumble and I find myself immobile, hurt, and humiliated. 

 

It’s the same in my spiritual life. I’ve been a believer for many years, but when I stumble in my walk with the Lord, when I fall flat on my face, no one around me tells me it’s normal. Instead of helping me up, they judge. Instead of being concerned, they laugh. Instead of guiding me toward truth, they question my faith. This is the pain no one wants to talk about.

 

Just like the birds, falling is a part of the process of learning to trust God. Peter understood this process all too well. Matthew 14:22-33 tells the story. One night the disciples were in a boat on the sea. They saw a man walking on the water. It was Jesus. In Peter’s excitement, he wanted to walk on the water with him. But the moment he stepped out of the boat and saw the wind, he got scared and started sinking. 

 

Peter was bold in his decision to get out of the boat. In the middle of a storm. With waves pounding and the boat tumbling up and down. His faith may have faltered, but Jesus was there to pick him up. 

 

Like the mama bird swooping down to catch the falling, flailing baby bird. Jesus reaches out his hand to us. 

 

But we have to take hold of it. 

 

The Lesson

The lesson for the birds, for Peter, for us is this—the power is available, but we have to access it. The bird has power in its wings to beat the air and make gravity its slave. Peter had the power to walk on the water if he had kept his eyes on Jesus instead of his surroundings. And we have the power of the Holy Spirit living within us to overcome the obstacles that life throws in our path.

 

In Ephesians 3:16, Paul prays for believers to be strengthened with power through God’s indwelling Spirit. Then, in verse 20 he tells us that this power is at work within us. The power described is an explosive power. It’s the root of our word for dynamite. It’s a power that can move mountains.

 

Imagine! The power that split seas and graves—the power that raised Jesus from death—dwells within us. 

 

Yet, we walk around like deflated balloons. Dragging the ground. Why?

 

We’ve taken our eyes off the Savior. We’ve missed the boat altogether. 

 

Think about that bird. Instead of flying, what if it decided to walk everywhere it went? In choosing to ignore the power waiting in its wings, the bird misses the beauty of seeing the world from the heights. It never knows the freedom of soaring on the wind. 

 

So how does this play out in my own life? How can I live in the fullness of God’s power? How can I soar?

 

There is an invisible force—the power of God. I know it’s there. So why does it still feel so far away? That’s where we’ll pick up next week.

 

What Red-Tailed Hawks Taught Me About Waiting on God

What Red-Tailed Hawks Taught Me About Waiting on God

Feb 12, 2026

Waiting on God feels like doing nothing. It feels like wasting time. But what if waiting is actually the spiritual strength training we need most? This post explores what red-tailed hawks can teach us about building faith, trusting God’s timing, and learning to soar.

The sun shines bright this morning. I’m sitting outside listening to the high pitch “caw-caw” of two red-tailed hawks. They soar high above the tree line. Their white and red feathers a stark contrast to the clear blue sky. Then a third joins the chorus. Watching them float, wings spread wide gives me a sense of their freedom. They catch the updraft and let it lift them higher. Circling and calling to each other. Letting the wind take them wherever it blows.

A Rough Start

These hawks make flying look effortless, but I wonder—did these graceful creatures start as terrified fledglings, tumbling from the nest? The baby birds would be content to sit in the nest, mouths wide open, waiting for mama to bring them food every day. But mama knows the only way her babies will learn is with practice. She entices them to the edge of the nest and gently nudges them over the side. 

Wings start flapping aimlessly. Panic sets in. The mama hawk doesn’t worry. Neither does she sit high above laughing at her children, ignoring their needs. 

No. She keeps a watchful eye on her little ones and, at just the right time, swoops in to catch them on her back. Then she carries them back to the nest. She does this over and over until the fledglings have built up strength in their wings and they can soar without falling.

As a person bound by gravity, I can’t fly like the birds. I can’t soar on the wind. But maybe that’s exactly what Isaiah meant when he said those who wait on the Lord will “mount up with wings like eagles.” Not that waiting magically gives me wings—but waiting is the falling, flapping, terrifying practice that builds the strength I need to soar.

“But they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” –Isaiah 40:31

Why Is Waiting Hard?

It seems counterproductive to wait. It feels like doing nothing. Like wasting time. But our 21st century brains understand waiting differently than the prophets like Isaiah. Surely this can’t still be true. Can it?

Full disclosure, I often question God when I have to wait. I wonder if he is choosing to withhold something from me? Or maybe he’s being unkind or devious? Is he ignoring me? Does he care? 

“Waiting is always affected by the character of our thoughts about the one on whom we wait.”

—Andrew Murray, Waiting on God

These questions reveal my heart. I doubt God’s love. I distrust his character. I question his methods. My anxious and restless heart can’t sit still doing nothing. 

But waiting is not doing nothing. 

What Waiting Actually Means

First, waiting is restrained action. It is a deliberate, patient expectation that remains until the person arrives or the activity is accomplished. It is a twisting cord, a tension-filled posture of gathered strength. Scientists call this potential energy—all the energy is there, holding back until the right moment for release. Waiting is knowing God will act and a willingness to submit to his perfect timing.

But, waiting also builds spiritual strength. Just like a fledgling hawk has to practice flapping its wings to gain strength, I have to practice trusting God to build my spiritual muscles. Strength training is necessary. It requires hard work. Pain. Sweat. Resistance. These are the tools God uses to build my endurance so I can stand strong in the face of persecution and trial. But I have to let go of my own stubborn will and learn to rest in his goodness. 

“The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.” –Lamentations 3:25

And here’s what waiting reveals—my weakness. Most of the time, I don’t see my struggles as strength exercises. Instead, my resistance to waiting exposes my doubt. When I can’t sit still and I grip at control with white-knuckles, I’m revealing what I actually believe about God. Do I trust him? Do I believe that he is good? The hard part is admitting that I don’t believe God will come through for me. That’s the honesty that waiting demands. I have to acknowledge what I really believe about God’s character when his timeline doesn’t match my expectations.

“From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.” —Isaiah 64:4

Finally Soaring

Waiting is not easy. But it’s worth the effort. It’s a daily battle. It’s a moment by moment release of my anxious thoughts. Waiting with hands and heart wide open takes practice. It takes falling and getting back up, again and again. Then the moment comes that I look back and realize I am soaring. Effortlessly. Stillness settles over my fearful heart. In that moment, there is peace.

Take Action…

This week, identify one area where you have trouble giving up that white-knuckle control instead of waiting on God. Write it down. Then ask yourself this question: What do I believe about God’s character? What does that show me about myself?