I knew something was up the moment my human pulled out the notebook this morning.
That notebook only comes out when the house gets quiet and thoughtful—when coffee is poured and eyes stare out the window a little longer than usual.
End-of-year quiet.
New-year thinking.
I stayed on my rug and watched, tail thumping softly, because this kind of moment deserves stillness.
He flipped pages.
Wrote a little.
Crossed things out.
Wrote some more.
Planning.
Preparing.
Humans do a lot of that when the calendar turns.
I don’t really understand calendars, but I understand intent.
You can smell it in the room.
Hope mixed with a little worry.
Good intentions wrapped in uncertainty.
Then I heard him read out loud:
“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth”
- 1 John 3:16-18 NIV
That part I understood.
Because love, real love, always shows up.
When my human plans for the new year, he writes about goals—health, work, faith, doing better than last year. But from where I’m lying, love doesn’t start with some resolution or another.
It starts with laying something down.
Time.
Comfort.
Pride.
Convenience.
I know about laying things down.
I lay down beside the bed when he can’t sleep.
I lay down my favorite toy when a child needs cheering.
I lay down my guard when someone comes through the door carrying hurt.
Not because I was told to.
Because love does that naturally.
John says Jesus laid down His life for us.
Not in theory.
Not in a plan.
In action.
In truth.
And if that’s the shape of love, then planning for a new year isn’t about adding more—it’s about offering more of ourselves where it matters most.
I watched my human pause, pen hovering.
Maybe he was realizing that the coming year doesn’t need grand promises as much as faithful presence.
Less talking about love.
More doing love.
A meal shared.
A phone call made.
Forgiveness given.
Kindness acted on before it cools off.
I nudged his leg.
Just a reminder.
Love doesn’t live in notebooks alone.
It lives in moments, on the floor, in the quiet places where actions speak louder than intentions.
As the new year approaches, maybe our best preparation isn’t perfect planning—but practicing the kind of love that gets up…
Moves toward others…
And lays something down for their good.
That’s the kind of love Jesus showed.
That’s the kind of love John calls us to.
And honestly?
That’s the kind of love even an old lazy dog knows how to live.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
