“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.”
- Philippians 3:12 NIV
I like watching my human out on the back porch in the early morning.
Coffee steaming.
Bible open.
Sometimes just sitting there, quiet as the dew on the grass.
I don’t think he notices me much in those moments.
That’s okay.
I’ve learned that becoming usually happens when nobody’s watching.
That’s something I’ve been thinking about lately—becoming.
Not “arriving.”
Not “having it all figured out.”
Just… “becoming.”
Humans (and we dogs, if we’re honest) like milestones.
Finished.
Complete.
Certified.
But faith doesn’t seem to work that way.
It’s more like my daily walks.
Same path.
Same smells.
But I’m not the same dog I was yesterday.
A little wiser.
A little slower.
Still curious.
Still learning where my human’s footsteps go.
The Apostle Paul said it better than I ever could when he wrote, “Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on…”
Even Paul—church planter, letter writer, miracle witness—was still becoming.
That comforts me.
Because some days my human feels strong in his faith.
Other days he struggles with it.
I can hear it from my spot on the rug.
But what I’ve noticed is this:
He keeps showing up.
He keeps opening the Word.
He keeps praying—even when the words come out clumsy and tired.
That’s becoming.
Becoming looks like obedience before understanding.
Becoming looks like forgiveness before feelings catch up.
Becoming looks like trust when answers don’t come quickly.
It’s not flashy.
It doesn’t bark for attention.
It just stays close.
I’ve learned that my job isn’t to know where we’re going—just to follow.
And I think that’s true for faith, too.
Jesus didn’t say, “Figure it all out.”
He said, “Follow Me.”
Step by step.
Day by day.
Walk by walk.
So if you feel unfinished today, take heart.
You are.
And that’s not a failure—it’s a sign you’re alive and growing.
God isn’t done with you yet.
He’s shaping, sanding, stretching, and strengthening.
You may not see it, but He does.
And from where I’m lying—head on my paws, eyes half closed—it looks like becoming is exactly where grace does some of its best work.
I’ll just stay here at His feet and be… be becoming.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
