As a dog, I don’t know much about politics, and I surely don’t understand why folks argue so much on that glowing box in the living room.
But I do know this — when my human says, “No,” he means no.
And when he says, “Good boy,” well… that’s about as clear as a cloudless Tennessee sky.
Seems to me the world used to talk a lot about good and bad.
Where everything was black and white.
Right and wrong.
Sit and stay.
Come and heel.
Simple commands.
Clear lines.
But these days?
Everything feels a little… grey.
And that’s what the Apostle Paul was dealing with when he wrote to the folks over in Corinth. He didn’t tiptoe around it. He didn’t throw a softer ball. He looked those believers square in the eye and said:
“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.”
- 1 Corinthians 6:19–20 (NIV)
Now that’s not grey.
That’s black and white.
“You are not your own.”
That will ruffle the fur of a culture that howls, “My life, my truth, my way.”
But Paul reminds us — we were bought. And not with pocket change.
We were bought with the blood of Jesus.
You see, when I was adopted into my family, I became theirs.
I don’t belong to the neighbor.
I don’t answer to the stray pack down the street.
I belong to the one who paid the price, who feeds me, who shelters me, who calls my name.
And if you belong to Christ, you belong to the One who stretched out His arms and paid the ultimate price for you.
That means this body?
This life?
These choices?
They aren’t mine to treat carelessly.
They’re a temple.
A dwelling place.
The Holy Spirit has moved in.
And you don’t track mud across holy floors.
I’ll be honest. It makes this old dog a little heavy-hearted thinking about the pups growing up today.
The lines are blurry.
The voices are loud.
Things once whispered in shame are now paraded out loud.
What used to be called darkness is celebrated as light.
Grey everywhere.
But here’s what I’ve noticed on my evening walks:
Even when the sky turns grey, the sun is still shining above the clouds.
And the Light of the world hasn’t dimmed one bit.
Our calling isn’t to howl at the darkness.
It’s to shine in it.
To remember we are not our own.
To remember we were bought at a price.
To honor God with these temples we live in.
For us as the church.
For us as a nation.
For us as a people.
And yes… for our children.
And their children.
May they see in us something steady.
Something bold.
Something unashamed of the Light.
May our temples shine — not with self-righteous glare — but with humble, blood-bought brilliance.
Illuminated by grace.
Empowered by the Spirit.
Covered by the blood of Jesus.
Grey may surround us.
But the Light still defines us.
As we long to honor Jesus with every step we take.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
