It was the first thunderstorm of the year. Nature had struck up a bad symphony that night—sharp flashes of lightning; booming rolls of thunder; torrential rain; and howling wind. I was glad my mother and I had bought the new houses for the dogs because, surely, they would need them tonight; the rain was too heavy for them to shelter under a tree.
The older of the dogs, Boi (pronounced ‘boy’), does not like the sound of thunder, and at the first rumblings he would scale the five-foot fence at the back of the yard and seek refuge on my mother’s front porch. I would hear his snoring under my bedroom window, which opens onto the porch. Truth be told, I would smell his presence long before he got comfortable enough to begin snoring.
So, on this stormy night, I was happy that there was no doggy odor and doggy snoring under my window, for it meant that Boi was safe and dry inside his new dog house and the purchase was a worthwhile one.
The Aftermath
Early the next morning I went outside to survey the backyard to see what the wind had blown in. I saw a yard covered in leaves from my neighbor’s mulberry bush. Coco, the other dog, greeted me less enthusiastically than usual; but, I thought, that’s because she had just awoken. She soon turned away from me and returned to her house and snuggled in. Where is Boi? I thought. He was nowhere in the backyard. Don’t tell me that boy hopped the fence and went onto the porch again! If he did, boy was he quiet.
I walked through the gate leading to the front porch—my scolding at the ready—but there was no Boi. Where could Boi be? I went inside the house and made my way to the main front door. When I opened the door I saw immediately from the mound of fresh dirt on the step that Boi had been in the front of the yard. But he was nowhere to be seen. There was the hole he had dug under the window next to the step in an attempt to hide from the thunder. But there was no Boi. I walked along the south side of the house and he was not there.
The conclusion that was emerging was incomprehensible to me so I walked the entire yard again. Boi could jump the back fence but not the higher front fence. I inspected the gates; they were still locked and showed no sign of having been opened. I looked behind trees and under tables. The reality all around me was surreal—Boi was not in the yard. I tried to process the evidence. If Boi was not in the yard, then Boi was outside the yard. If Boi was outside the yard, then Boi leapt a five-foot fence and then a six-foot fence in the middle of the night during a thunderstorm. Impossible! It was not the physical athleticism of the dog that I found incredulous; it was the likelihood that Boi would leave the safety of his yard during a thunderstorm to go only God knows where!
I decided that I must have been overlooking the obvious and went to get some help. “Coco, where is Boi?” Coco looked nonchalantly at me from the inside of her cozy house. She didn’t care to answer me. She didn’t answer me.
I returned to the front of the yard. I stood at my gate and looked up and down the street hoping for a glimpse of Boi. As anxiety began to set in, I did something I had promised never to do: I hollered his name, thrice! No Boi came. Alas.
I had to face facts. That sstuuuuuuupid dog had left the safety of his home to escape thunder and rain and lightning and wind! How sstuuuuuuupid can one dog be! Who leaves the safety of their home during a storm to go . . . nowhere! What is safer than being where your owner is?
Running from our Fears
Suddenly, a voice broke into my diatribe: Many people do the same thing. What? Yes, many people, when going through difficult, tumultuous times in their lives, leave the safety of their faith and their relationship with God to go work out things their own way. Really? But why?
Why would we be so stupid as to run away from a safe sanctuary and expose ourselves to the elements that can harm us? Do we know that we are safe when we are with our Father God? Do we know that He alone can keep us safe during raging storms in our lives?
I knew that no harm would come to Boi as long as he was in my yard. I knew that no matter how hard it rained, how sharp the lightning flashed across the sky, how loudly the thunder roared, and how wildly the wind blew, he was safe. Coco knew she was safe and she passed the storm asleep in her house. Boi, however, did not know he was already in a safe place; so he sought safety and comfort elsewhere. Why?
That morning I had an appointment that I had to keep, so I couldn’t comb the neighborhood for Boi; I left him in God’s hands. As I approached my car, I saw one of my neighbors.
“Neighbor, my whimpy dog jumped the fence last night in all that rain and went outside the yard. I have to go out; if you see him, please open the gate and let him in.”
My neighbor looked quizzically at me. My dogs’ antics while safely behind a fence had earned them the reputation of being vicious creatures! “Oh, I didn’t know your dog is outside the gate. Umm, that might be him behind there.” He turned slowly and pointed to his backyard. “There’s a dog there; he was trying to get out but, well . . . come see.”
I followed him to the back of his yard. There, wet and cowering between the house and the boundary wall, exposed to the elements, was my big, bad Boi. “Yeah, that’s him,” I scowled. “I’ll take it from here, thanks.” My neighbor was happy to step aside. “Come, Boi.” His eyes locked on mine. “Come, let’s go.”
I led the way out of the neighbor’s yard and across the street and he followed nervously, his ears drooping and his tail limp. Once we got to our yard, he became animated; I couldn’t open the gate fast enough. He flew through, his ears perked, his tail erect. And oh, the tale of adventure and bravery he told Coco, who was wiggling with delight! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing!
Home At Last
I was relieved Boi was back home safely. But I was troubled by what had happened. How could he not know that he was safer in his own yard than in a stranger’s yard? Maybe it was something I had done or not done. But, wait, Coco stayed in the yard. Maybe she stayed only because she did not have the ability to jump the fences. Even so, she went into her house. If only Boi had gone into his house, he would have discovered that the rain would not wet him and the lightning would not seem so sharp and the thunder so loud in there. What could I do so that he would know he’s safe here? I looked around the yard. Boi’s house was a good distance away from Coco’s. Maybe I need to move his house closer to Coco’s so that he’d know he’s not alone the next time we have a thunderstorm. I looked down at the dog who was rubbing himself happily against my leg. “Boi,” he looked up at me, nothing but love in his eyes, “Boi, how could you be so sstuuuuuuupid!”
Do we know that we are in a safe place when we are with God? Do we know that there is no safer place in life than in being a child of God? Do we know that we are safe with God no matter what bad news we may get about our health, a relationship, or our job? Do we know that the absolute worst thing we can do when times get tough is to leave God and seek hope in alcohol, joy in revenge, love in infidelity, peace in narcotics, and faith in humans? Don’t be asinine like Boi; no matter how rough life gets, stay obedient to the principles and laws of God.
As Christians prepare to celebrate the life, death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus, may we learn from His example that we are always safe when we are with God—no matter how unjust we are treated, no matter how painful our suffering. God will never leave us, He will never forsake us. We can trust Him with our life. If we would go through our storm in the place He has provided for us, we would see the sunshine of the new day.
