Follow Me

I've come to a conclusion over the last few days ... actually, I've been arriving at this conclusion for the last year and a half or so. And it probably says a lot about my stubborn will that it's taken that long for me to finally get here. To the point of my conclusion, that is. OK, OK ... here it is ... God teaches me some of His greatest truths through events and circumstances that I never expect. He brings me to places and people and situations for the purpose of teaching me something of profound value, of speaking to me in a way that screams that it is Him, of growing me in a manner that may be painful but that is always worthwhile.

For the last two weeks, I've been working on "homework" with my big dog Julie that was given to us by the professional trainer that my son Brad enlisted to teach Julie and me how to walk together. For those of you who missed the blog about Brad's Christmas gift to me, that was his gift ... his incredibly awesome gift ... hiring the trainer for Jules and me. When I first received the email from the trainer outlining our homework until he came to meet with us, my initial reaction was, "This is the dumbest thing I've ever heard of, and it will never work." I was instructed to feed Julie by hand as we walked through the house, starting and stopping, over and over, while I said the words out loud, "Follow me."

That exercise, as ridiculous as it seemed to me, went very well and Julie seemed to fully enjoy the game as well as having my undivided attention. The trainer's email for our work for the second week instructed me to hook a leash to Julie's collar as we played the food game, allowing it to trail along on the floor as we traipsed through the house. While I would love to tell you that the second week was as much of a success as the first week ... well, Julie chewed all the way through four leashes during that week, so I'll let you draw your own conclusion as to how successful we were. The third week, I was told to hold the leash as we played our now familiar food game, starting and stopping, over and over, while I again instructed Julie to "Follow me."

I remained quite skeptical as to the trainer's reasoning as to how this was supposed to teach Julie how to walk on a leash with me outside in the wide open spaces. It's one thing to hang on to her in my little house, but it's a whole different ball game when she drags me down the street or through the yard when we get outdoors. When he arrived at my house last Friday evening, I greeted him with more than a twinge of doubt as to him making any progress at all with my big boisterous hound. I soon discovered just how misplaced my doubts were when within 20 minutes, he had taught Julie not to bolt out the door when he opened it. Within 45 minutes, he had Julie and I not only walking together to the end of my driveway and back, he had her turning and following me without me having to say a word. As he bid us farewell that evening, the trainer smiled and said, "Now you understand the homework, don't you?"

As I snuggled in my bed for the night, it struck me ... Julie wasn't the only one who had been training for the last three weeks. I had so wanted to walk Julie and my little J.R. together; I even bought a connector leash to tether the two of them together, but Julie would pull and strain against the leash so badly that I finally gave up and walked only with J.R. Tears filled my eyes as I realized that the 15 months I had to walk with J.R. was his time, and he was never happier than when he was alone with me on the trail. And now ... now this is Julie's time to walk with me, to be alone with me on the trail. Time, I thought, as my tears spilled onto my pillow ... God's timing in my life is always perfect, always just, always part of His ultimate plan for me. Starting and stopping, over and over ... while God consistently holds out His mighty hand and says, "Follow me."

"Follow me, Terrie, through the darkest times of life. Follow me, Terrie, when you are on the mountaintop. Follow me, Terrie, even if you can't see the path in front of you. Follow me, Terrie, when the sun shines brightly."

"Follow me."