A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I went to the lake to walk with our puppy, Mr. Feeny (yes, he is totally named after the Boy Meets World tv show). One thing you must know about me is that I am, at my core, a sun flower. I must be bathed in sunshine to ensure sanity and survival. So, from time to time, my hubby lovingly takes his wife and dog out for some fresh air and sunshine.

After a little hike, we made it to our favorite spot on the lake; an oversized, underutilized, primitive campsite. It sticks out into the water like a peninsula. I love its water, sunflowers, and openness. It is inspiring to my soul. As soon as we got there, we let him off the leash to smell and explore and just enjoy a little freedom.

His favorite thing to do when we get to this happy place is to chase and retrieve sticks from the water. He is still young, so he will often only go as far as he can still reach the ground below his paws. If he perceives that it is too far, he will abandon his mission and return to us to throw him a new stick. Needless to say, there are many sticks afloat in the local lake, thanks to being just out of his reach.

Isn’t this true about us as humans, too? Something seems just beyond reach so we let it drift away, let someone else achieve that goal? Don’t we tend to stick to the things where we can feel the earth still beneath our feet? It is certainly true for me! Writing is often way past my comfort zone and any perceived criticism sends me back to the shoreline, away from anything dangerous, clinging to safety by not writing for long periods of time.

This visit, as my husband threw the stick, a boat passed by in the distance. This sent small waves toward the shoreline. This startled Mr. Feeny and he began to bite at the waves.  He didn’t understand why they were “attacking” him. He tried to subdue the water, but to no avail. Wave on wave, he tried to make this now violent foe stop its onslaught. Frightened, he returned to shore, his safety from the terrible tiny waves. His confusion and misunderstanding of his reality was a source of much needed laughter, but it really made me think about my own world.

How many times in my life has something that seemed safe, turn seemingly unsafe in a matter of minutes? How many times have I perceived something as a danger and an eminent threat, but in reality it was nothing? How many times have I reacted in defense when not necessary at all? Really, I wonder most, how many times has God had a great laugh at my confusion and misunderstanding of my reality? What belly laughs He must have had, though filled with loving compassion, as I bit at waves of life that seemed insurmountable.

Its sweet to me to know that our Heavenly Father is watching over us, protecting, and enjoying our little responses to life, including those moments when we bite at the waves.