I was stretched out on the rug watching my human again. He does this thing sometimes—bows his head, folds his hands, and gets real still.
No ball.
No treats.
No words I can understand at first.
Just… quiet.
But not empty quiet.
Full quiet.
He was reading earlier about when Jesus talked about prayer.
Said something about not barking loud just to be heard… not putting on a show for the crowd.
I tilted my head at that.
Dogs don’t pray like humans do, but I know a thing or two about wanting attention.
Sometimes I bark just to hear myself echo.
Sometimes I nudge just to be noticed.
But Jesus… He said don’t do it like that.
He said go somewhere quiet.
Close the door.
Talk to the Father who already sees.
Already knows.
Now that got my tail thumping.
Because I know what it is to be known without saying a word.
My human knows my hungry look… my tired sigh … my restless pacing before a storm.
I don’t have to explain much.
He just… knows.
And if my human can know me like that, how much more does the Father know His children?
Jesus said don’t heap up empty words either.
Don’t just keep repeating like maybe God didn’t hear the first time.
I’ve done that too—whining at the door like maybe the tenth scratch will open it faster than the first.
But prayer, Jesus says, isn’t about volume or repetition.
It’s about relationship.
It’s not a performance.
It’s a conversation.
I watched my human again.
He wasn’t loud.
Wasn’t trying to impress anyone.
Just talking… pausing… listening even.
That part got me.
Listening.
I don’t do that as well as I should.
But maybe prayer isn’t just about me bringing my wants like a slobbery tennis ball.
Maybe it’s about sitting close… ears up… heart still… waiting on the voice of the One who loves me most.
Jesus didn’t just tell us how not to pray—He showed us the kind of heart that prayer comes from.
Simple.
Sincere.
Trusting.
Like a dog laying at his master’s feet… not needing a speech… just wanting to be near.
I think I’m starting to understand.
Prayer isn’t about being seen.
It’s about being with.
And the Father?
He’s already listening before we ever make a sound.
So maybe tonight… I’ll just stay close.
No barking.
Just belonging.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” - Matthew 6:7-8
