The Great Pursuit

Chip got loose tonight. For those of you that have never met Chip, he's our generally mild-mannered beagle that has a wild streak every now and then. We talk about getting rid of him or just letting him loose one day, but we never will. After almost 5 years, he's become part of the family. But, tonight he escaped from his warm, safe home to take a chance at making it on his own. He failed.

At around a quarter to 10, he was in the yard again: stalking whatever prey he thought he could catch. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed the leash. I had to catch him and bring him back inside. As much as he thinks he is "wild-at-heart," he really isn't. He could never survive on his own. It was my duty to bring him in to do what was best for him.

As I stalked him into the backyard, he realized the chase was on.
To him, it's a game. I chased him through the woods behind the houses along our street. He ventured into the backyards of our neighbors on Randall. He sniffed every bush, pursued every scent, and continued leading me along, ready to run at a moment's notice. After almost being seen by some of our neighbors, I continued chasing him, knowing that his rebellion was not good for him. I was very disappointed in him for running away again.

As I kept following him, my legs and arms got scratched by the branches and roots all around, yet I continued pursuing him deep into his rebellion. I would catch him. I had to. He was my dog. I watched him fail at catching a rabbit. He's too much of an indoor-dog to ever catch his own food. His diet as a wild stray would only consist of trash can cuisine. Still, I pursued him. Floodlights came on as the motion sensors picked up the chase. My eyes adjusted and I saw him standing in the neighbor's driveway. I snuck up, but he caught a whiff of my scent and ran.

Finally, he was the furthest away from home that he'd been all night. I was getting tired of chasing him during what was supposed to be a quiet evening. As he walked along a fence, I quietly stalked him, but he heard me coming. He turned to his left and started walking until he reached another fence. I looked and noticed a third fence that met with the one he was up against. Surrounded. There was no escape at this point. He realized that this was the end of the line. He couldn't make it on his own. He had come to the point of surrender. I lunged forward and caught him up in my arms. I was now covered in dirt, holding my dog. I told him that it was time to come home and go to bed. I stood up and started walking him towards home. Along the way, my mind started going over what would compel me to chase this dog through the woods and dirt on a quiet night.

In a way, I guess it's because I love him. He is my dog, and I want what's best for him. As disappointed as I get with him for running away time and time again, I know I would do it all over again.

Then it hit me. I'm safe, warm, and comfortable when I'm right with God. He provides everything I need; I have no reason to run away from Him. I can't make it on my own. I always end up empty and hurt when I try and do things independently of Him. I need God, yet I continually rebel and run away. Throughout my rebellion, he chases me and follows me into my dark and dirty sin. He pursues me. He watches me fail at surviving on my own. He wants me to come home again. Finally, when I'm all fenced in and realize how much I need my Father, He grabs me and doesn't let go. He tells me how much He loves me, and walks me home. He's scarred, dirty, and tired, but to Him, it was all worth it:

The Great Pursuit.

Father, thanks for never giving up on me. As I run further and further into my selfishness, you chase and pursue me.

"'I love you' could not be said a better way."