Sometimes I think I am a gerbil in dogs clothing. I believe I am a dog. I am desired, longed for, patiently waited for, and loved. At least I can tell myself that, but perhaps I am a gerbilnot really wanteda replacementfun for a while, but sure to be returned. Then God comes along . . . Do you ever feel like a stray dog, alone and frightened, cowering in the cold corner of an animal shelter? God scoops us up into his arms and carries us home from the shelter. He washes us and gives us a name. But life with the Master is new and difficult. The Masters new rules sometimes make us look through the fence slats of His kingdom. We dig holes and crawl back into the world. God continues to whistle from his porch even while we chase cars and cats and dig through the neighbors trash. Eventually, we have to decide if we will leave our doggy lives behind and enjoy a relationship with the Master.
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