The Ledger

By Jennifer Greene-Sullivan

There are moments in my life when I must admit that I have absolutely no clue what I am doing. Despite my serious routines and busy schedule, the first day of Fall Break found me at the end of myself. I was physically exhausted, mentally scattered, and desperately in need of spiritual renewal. I recognized that I needed to stop, to let go, and to wait on the Lord.

I have always been strong-willed, highly motivated, and obstinately determined. Unfortunately, that determination often leads me to spin my wheels, attempting to accomplish everything in my own strength. Yet, as a follower of Jesus, I am called to humility. I am called to be His, not my own. So, this week, I deliberately missed my column deadline because I simply didn’t know what the Lord wanted me to say. Instead of forcing the words, I chose to wait.

Little did I know that the Lord would use twenty pounds of black-coated, four-legged determination to illustrate my predicament while I waited.

On Mother’s Day, Chris brought home Merle, a rambunctious Jagdterrier puppy whose obedience skills leave much to be desired. This little menace loves rolling in mud, dead things, and anything else that might make my life harder. Merle is fiercely determined, easily distracted, and convinced that whatever he wants to do is precisely what he ought to be doing.

Wednesday afternoon, Chris left a particularly filthy Merle in his truck while he crossed the road for a snack. With the windows down and his master’s attention elsewhere, Merle seized his opportunity for freedom.

Unfortunately, that freedom led directly to the Holloways’ goats.

With sheer triumph on his face and a spring in his step, Merle began herding the terrified goats in one continuous, frantic circle. Mr. and Mrs. Holloway hollered and called, but Merle was much too busy fulfilling his self-appointed mission to listen. Mr. Holloway even attempted to intervene with his Gator, accidentally running over one of the panicked goats in the commotion. Thankfully, the goat survived.

When Chris finally returned, he discovered Merle still enthusiastically running his circular operation. Mrs. Holloway’s assessment was simple: “That dog needs obedience training!”

This afternoon, while waiting on the Lord, I suddenly recognized myself in Merle. How often have I run in circles, determined to accomplish something in my own strength, while failing to listen for the voice of the One who knows exactly where I need to go? Like Merle, my determination can sometimes make obedience much harder than it ought to be.

Merle is back in obedience training, complete with his collar and Chris’s watchful eye. Although I don’t particularly enjoy admitting it, I recognize that I need the Lord’s correction just as surely as Merle needs his master’s direction. After all, obedience isn’t simply knowing whose voice to follow; it’s surrendering my own desires long enough to actually follow it.

In John 10:4, Jesus reminds us that the Shepherd goes before His sheep, and they follow because they know His voice. He doesn’t ask His sheep to determine the direction, clear the path, or figure everything out for themselves. He asks them to follow. Sometimes that means stepping forward in faith, and sometimes it means remaining still until He calls.

This week, I have needed the stillness. I have needed the rest. More importantly, I have needed to remember that everything I am and everything I have belongs to Him, including these words. I am not called to run endlessly in circles trying to accomplish His purposes through my own determination. I am called to be His.

So, while Merle learns to listen before he takes another herd of goats on an unexpected adventure, I’ll be learning to do the same. My Shepherd knows my name, my needs, and the way before me. I need only recognize His voice and obey.

Even when my own strength fails and my wings grow weary, I can rest in the One who reminds me that torn wings still fly.