About Duke

I was sitting for a while, trying to figure out what I wanted to write about, or what I felt led to write about. But, like always, my goofball dog had come from patrolling the house to leap up onto my bed, with a loud thump and an unnecessary sigh, as if he’d been working hard all day. He’s there every time I glance over, and if he isn’t, he’s nearby. That’s on older picture before he got all big and mangy, but I liked it the most out of what I have searched for.

I still think about and wonder about and worry about my dog once in a while (I like to think I don’t as much!), but there was a time when he was a puppy that I somehow would get myself so worked up about what might happen to my dog that it was honestly ridiculous.

Eventually, one Sunday morning, I remember getting a funny and fascinating look at Duke from the Holy Spirit. I think about it less now, but that morning I felt very strongly that the Holy Spirit recognized my affection and desire to care for and protect my dog as a good thing. More importantly, I came to understand that He wanted my dog to represent Himself, in my life. Not a worry, but a way to remember who He is.

I remembered that little word I got however long ago, as I sat thinking quietly, asking the Lord what I should write and share from my heart. As I was thinking, and as I glanced toward my bed, I could easily spot what my dumb dog mirrored in what I know and understand about the Holy Spirit.

Duke is always closer than I realize.

Duke is always happy beyond reason to see me.

Duke is never impatient with me, never angry with me, and never holds a grudge (even for those times I ran over his tail).

He is always listening when I say his name (most of the time, anyway — some of the time…).

He likes to stay as close as he can to me; he will always stop me (literally, in the middle of the room, all the time) just so he can be with me just a little while longer.

He has every desire to protect me and make sure that I know he’s watching out for me (very loudly, and especially for dastardly box-carrying attackers and dangerous stroller-pushing moms).

Even as I rest at night, he is never out of earshot.

He’s only a dog. But I also know that all those little things are quiet reflections of an even bigger and even closer and even warmer Friend.

I forget, sometimes. I feel like I maybe mess up, sometimes. I feel like I ignore Him, sometimes.

But, like Duke, I know for certain — I just have to glance His way.

He’s right there.