My human sat in the old porch chair with his Bible open and coffee steaming while the morning sunlight came through the trees. I laid there at his feet, thumping my tail every now and then just to remind him I was still available for petting and theological support.
I knew something unusual was happening the moment my human got excited reading out loud.
His voice got louder.
His hands moved around more.
And honestly?
I didn’t know what was going on.
From that old beat up Bible, he was reading about Pentecost.
Now, I may just be a dog, but I know what it means when a room changes.
I can sense joy before people smile.
I can feel tension before folks fuss.
And according to Acts 2, that upper room changed in a mighty big hurry.
“Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.”
- Acts 2:2-3 HCSB
Now if a violent rushing wind with tongues of fire hit our house, I’d probably bark at the curtains, hide behind the couch, and blame the cat next door.
But those believers didn’t run away.
They leaned in.
The Holy Spirit had arrived just like Jesus promised.
It wasn’t just noise and flames and excitement.
It was God placing His Spirit inside ordinary people so they could live extraordinary faith.
Fishermen became preachers.
Worriers became witnesses.
Fearful folks walked out boldly into the streets talking about Jesus.
My human said Pentecost reminds believers today that we’re never walking alone.
I know something about walking with someone.
I follow my human everywhere. Kitchen?
I’m there.
Porch?
Right behind him.
Late-night snack run?
Especially there.
I stay close because I trust the one leading me.
That’s how believers are supposed to walk with the Holy Spirit.
Not just visiting church once in a while like it’s the vet’s office.
Not just pulling out faith during storms.
But daily walking, listening, following, trusting, and staying close.
Whether young.
Old.
Loud.
Quiet.
Folks with polished lives
Or folks held together with duct tape and prayer.
The Spirit still moves.
Still leads.
Still convicts.
Still comforts.
Still points folks toward Jesus.
And maybe that’s the lesson this old dog needed most.
Pentecost reminds us that faith was never meant to be lived in our own strength.
The Holy Spirit guides believers…
Comforts weary hearts…
Gives courage when life gets hard… And helps us become more like Christ.
That’s a mighty good thing… because left to ourselves, humans and dogs both tend to wander and chase squirrels.
So today, maybe slow down long enough to listen for the Spirit’s leading.
Walk closely with the Lord.
Stay faithful in the little things.
And don’t be afraid of the holy wind God may send through your life.
Even an old dog can tell when Heaven’s moving.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
