I was lying on the rug this morning watching my human sip his coffee and listening to him read from Ephesians.
And suddenly I was thinking about something I do not fully understand… but I sure am thankful for.
Grace
Now I am just a dog.
But I do know what it means to knock over the trash can, track mud across a clean floor, and chew on something that did not belong to me.
And I also know what it means to be loved anyway.
My human read these words from Ephesians 2:8–9:
“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.”
I tilted my head.
That is what I do when I am trying to understand something big.
You see, I understand treats.
I understand commands.
I understand “sit” and “stay” and “no.” But grace?
Grace is different.
Grace is when I have done nothing to earn a belly rub, yet I get one anyway.
Grace is when I deserve the kennel but get to curl up at my human’s feet instead.
Grace is when the door opens, not because I figured out the knob, but because someone stronger and kinder opened it for me.
The Apostle Paul wrote that salvation is a gift.
Not a wage.
Not a reward.
Not a trophy for best performance.
A gift.
Now I have received gifts before.
I did not pay for my squeaky toy.
I did not earn my warm bed.
I did not negotiate my adoption.
I was chosen.
I was brought home.
I was loved into belonging.
That is grace.
Sometimes I watch people try to earn what God has already offered.
They strive.
They strain.
They stack up good deeds like bones in the backyard, hoping it will be enough.
But bones buried in the dirt do not impress the Master of Heaven.
Grace means you cannot earn it.
And you cannot lose it by tripping over your own paws either.
It is “not of works,” Paul says.
That means no bragging in heaven.
No chest-puffing.
No comparing obedience charts.
Just grateful hearts wagging in worship.
If I had to earn my place in this family, I would be in trouble.
I have had more than a few “less than stellar” days.
But my place here is not based on my performance.
It is based on my human’s love.
And if you belong to Jesus, your place in His family is not based on how perfectly you heel.
It is based on His perfect sacrifice.
Grace humbles us.
Grace frees us.
Grace makes us grateful.
And here is something else I have noticed:
When I know I am loved, I actually obey better.
Not because I am afraid of being kicked out, but because I do not want to disappoint the one who rescued me.
That is what grace does.
It does not make you lazy.
It makes you loyal.
So today, stop trying to earn what God has already given.
Sit at His feet.
Receive the gift.
Trust the Giver.
And maybe—just maybe—let your heart wag a little.
Because by grace you have been saved.
Not because you were a “good dog.”
But because He is a good God.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
