I’ve spent most of my life lying where I can see both the front door and the people I love.
Not because I’m in a hurry to go anywhere but because I like to see who comes and goes.
You can learn a lot by watching feet and listening to voices. I know the difference between someone who talks about love and someone who actually lives it.
The apostle John puts it plain enough that even an old dog like me can understand:
“If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ and yet hates his brother or sister, he is a liar. For the person who does not love his brother or sister whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And we have this command from Him: The one who loves God must also love his brother and sister.”
- 1 John 4:20–21 HCSB
That’s plain talk.
No riddles.
No theological gymnastics.
Just truth laid right out on the porch.
And I know a thing or two about love you can see.
When my Master loves me, I feel it in a hand on my head, a bowl filled on time, a voice that calls my name even when I’ve wandered too far.
He doesn’t just say he cares—he shows it.
Every day.
John says love isn’t proven by what we say toward heaven, but by how we behave on earth.
If we claim devotion to a God we cannot see, but withhold kindness from people we can see, something doesn’t line up.
A dog can see and smell when things don’t line up.
I’ve noticed something else over the years:
Love is rarely loud.
It shows up in opened doors, patient words, shared burdens, and forgiveness offered when it would be easier to walk away.
Love looks like staying put when the Master tells you to stay, and getting up when He says “Let’s Go.”
I don’t understand theology the way humans do, but I understand this:
I love my Master because He first loved me.
I show that love by staying close, by trusting His voice, and by not snapping at other dogs He may brings into the yard.
Turns out, that’s what John is saying too.
You can’t pet God, but you can love the people He puts right in front of you.
You can’t see His face, but you can see His children.
And according to Scripture, that’s where real love shows up.
So if you want to know whether love is alive in your heart, don’t just look upward.
Look around.
That brother.
That sister.
That difficult neighbor.
That weary soul sitting a little too close on the bench.
Love God… as we should.
Then prove it the way He asks—by loving the ones we can see.
God’s love didn’t stop at words.
It showed up in flesh and blood, on a cross and an empty tomb.
And now He asks His people to let that same love walk around in their skin, in their voices, in the way they treat one another.
Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a familiar set of footsteps coming through the garage door.
And when the Master comes near, an old dog like me knows exactly how to respond.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
