You ready for another deep dive into the emotional and spiritual challenges of this fundraiser project?
No? Yeah, me neither.
Let’s lighten things up with a story I’ve been sitting on for a few weeks — one I hope will bring a smile to your heart and a gentle reminder of God’s love for us.
Anyone who’s followed this blog for long knows how big a role my dogs play in my life. So, daily walks with them are a goal I shoot for whenever the temperature falls somewhere between 20 and 70 degrees.
For various reasons, Maisy and Mimi are the only two dogs I can walk together. Some of the others have lingering trauma or simply lack the training to make walks enjoyable. So, since Mimi joined our family about a year ago, I’ve been walking her alongside Maisy. They’re not exactly synchronized, but it’s manageable.
Recently, though, I’ve noticed something funny about these walks. When we’re on the sidewalk, the girls do a decent job of staying “within the lines.” Sure, there are plenty of forays into the grass for sniffing and “business” sessions — every bush, fire hydrant, and random leaf seems to have its own doggy diary entry — but overall, they stick reasonably close to the path.
Then comes the intersection.
The moment the sidewalk and grassy barriers disappear, they’re completely discombobulated. It’s like they’re saying, “Wait—where did my sidewalk go? How do I know where to walk now? Why are there so many concrete options all of a sudden?”
This photo from our walk last Saturday captures it perfectly. (For perspective, we were heading toward the top of the picture.) Maisy is looking far down the street, while Mimi hesitates, debating whether she should come back toward me and the safety of the familiar sidewalk.
Is this just my dogs, or do yours lose their sense of direction when the boundaries disappear?
This temporary dog-confusion makes me smile—but it also reminds me of a deeper truth about how God loves and guides us.
Think of the sidewalk as the path God would have us walk, and the grass borders as His laws and commandments—boundaries given not to restrict us, but to protect us.
Let me be clear: God’s law and commandments aren’t a checklist for earning His favor, and they certainly aren’t the path to salvation through good works.
The Bible is unmistakably clear on this point:
“For by grace you have been saved through faith.
And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God,
not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”
— Ephesians 2:8–9 (ESV)
If salvation is purely the result of God’s grace and mercy through Christ, then what’s the purpose of His law?
Just like my dogs lose their bearings when the sidewalk ends, we too can lose our sense of direction when we step outside God’s guiding truth.
The Law doesn’t save us, it reveals where we’ve drifted and gently points us back to the path that leads to life, safety, and joy.
Will we still find ourselves at spiritual “intersections,” unsure of which way to go? Absolutely. That’s the reality of living in a fallen world with a still-present sin nature, even as redeemed children of the King.
So what do we do when that happens?
Look again at my girls in the photo. Maisy is gazing eagerly down a new road—one filled with unknown perils. Mimi, on the other hand, has turned back toward me, her safe place, standing on the sidewalk where the guides remain.
That’s what we’re called to do. Be like Mimi.
Rather than charging ahead on a path of our own choosing, we turn back toward our Master, the One who knows the way and walks it with us.
We trust the boundaries He’s given—not to limit us, but to keep us close. Because that’s where we find peace, protection, and the deepest joy.
I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go;
I will counsel you with my eye upon you.
— Psalm 32:8 (ESV)

