“And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,
‘My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.’”
- Hebrews 12:5-6 NIV
I’ve been called a “good dog” more times than I can count.
I’ve also been called…well…just my full name.
You know you’re in trouble when your human uses all the syllables.
I’ll be honest… I don’t always appreciate discipline.
Like when I figured the grilled chicken on the counter was obviously left there for me.
Or when I dug a crater in the flower bed because I just knew there had to be a chipmunk hiding under those petunias.
When my human hollered, “Come!” I pretended my floppy ears had quit working.
Turns out, they hadn’t.
After a few moments, I found myself back on the leash with that familiar look from my human.
You know the one—not angry… just disappointed.
Then came those words I never enjoy hearing.
“No.”
I dropped my head, sighed dramatically, and shuffled along like the saddest dog in the county.
A little later, my human scratched behind my ears, rubbed my head, and said, “I correct you because I love you. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Now that’s different.
I thought he was ruining my fun.
He was actually protecting my future.
I’ve noticed God works that way with my human.
Sometimes a sermon gets a little too personal.
Sometimes Scripture points out an attitude that needs changing.
Sometimes a closed door or a hard season redirects his path.
And he doesn’t like hearing it in the moment either.
And I’ve never once seen God stop loving him.
When God says, “Not that way,” it’s because He sees the road we can’t. He knows where the skunks are hiding, where temptation leads, and where broken hearts are waiting.
His discipline isn’t meant to shame us; it’s meant to shape us.
The discipline wasn’t punishment.
It was proof that he belonged.
Maybe that’s why my human keeps opening that Bible every morning.
He’s not looking for permission to chase every squirrel life throws across his path.
He’s looking for the loving voice of the Shepherd who knows where danger hides.
You know, I still don’t enjoy hearing “No.”
But I’ve learned that “No” often means, “I love you too much to let you hurt yourself.”
That’s true for dogs.
And it’s even more true for God’s children.
So today, if God lovingly corrects you through His Word, His Spirit, or the wisdom of another believer, don’t mistake His discipline for rejection.
It’s one more reminder that you are part of His family.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll stay close to my human today.
Besides… squirrels come and go.
His love doesn’t.
Keep the Faith… Carpe Diem
