Fruit of the Spirit - Week 4, Day 3

Day 3: Follow God's Plan

Dogs. Big dogs, little dogs, smelly dogs, clean dogs. Trained dogs, stupid dogs, brown dogs, black dogs, dogs, dogs, dogs! When I was a teenager, I had a dog. Her name was Muffy, and she is what I would consider a stupid, smelly, and small dog. Muffy is a Shih Tzu.

My parents got Muffy when she was just eight weeks old. She was just barely old enough to be away from her mom. We went to this person's house and picked the smelly thing up. I have to admit that when we first got the dog, she was kind of fun. But something happened to Muffy. She became a spoiled brat. She began to act like she owned the house, and my mom and dad began to call her my sister. Anyway, Muffy and I didn't get along too well. Why?

Let me list about fifty reasons.
1. She smells.
2. She's stupid. She can't do one single trick.
3. She scratches herself all the time. It's embarrassing when company comes over.
4. She has to pee 24 hours a day.
5. She always wants to sleep with me.
6. She throws up all over the place.

I could go on, but I'll spare you.

Muffy and I began to have a little understanding between the two of us. Muffy was to stay out of my way, and if Muffy didn't, Muffy would be kicked across the room. This understanding has worked thousands of times beautifully. You should see her soar through the air. (I'm just kidding, I would never kick a dog.)

My parents went on vacation. They left me home alone with Muffy. My parents told me to walk the stupid dog at 6 am, 12 noon, 5 pm, and 10 pm. I told you she peed a lot. I thought to myself, "there is no way that I'm going to walk this dog all week long." So, what did I do? I ignored my parents' directions.

Now, I don't know when you get up in the morning. I personally had to get up at the ungodly hour of 8 am. At 6 am the dog began to scratch my door. Nobody wants to wake me up at 6 am. I ignored the dog's scratching, and I rolled over and went back to sleep. At 8 am, I got up out of bed, and what did I find? Yep, you guessed it, a big old-fashioned puddle of number 1. OK, I can deal with this. OK, Muffy. I see you're playing for keeps. I placed her leash on her scrawny neck after I cleaned up the mess and began to walk the dog, hoping she will go number 2 since she's already gone number 1. My mom warned me that my dog needs extra time to concentrate when she has to go number 2, so I might be out there walking this stupid dog anywhere from 30 to 45 minutes. Now that thrills my heart and soul.

Out the door, the two of us go. I'm hoping for a new record, and I can see in her little black eyes that she is too. I give her a little encouragement as I start up my stopwatch. "Today, Muffy, we are going to break the five-minute limit." Muffy wanted to set a record, but it wasn't for the fastest number 2 job, but the slowest. I must have walked that dog 156 miles. The whole time I walked her, she kept acting like she was going to go, and then she would lift back up. After about 5 of these false alarms, I couldn't take it anymore, so I took her back into the house. I have things to do, people to see. I can't be waiting on your poop all morning long.

Well, the day moved much faster than I thought it would move, and before you knew it, I was walking into the house at 10:30 at night. I went upstairs, wondering what kind of mess my dog had left me now. I began to inspect the home, and everything looked great. I thanked Muffy for holding off on her business, and we went outside for her nighttime walk. After about 30 minutes, I came back into the house. Life was pretty sweet. Muffy had just gone number 1 and number 2. I was a pretty proud brother.

I walked into my bedroom and turned on my light. Without looking, I jumped backward onto my bed and grabbed for the remote control for my TV. I turned my TV on, but something strange was going on. A pungent odor filled the room, and something gushy was on my back. I leaped to my feet and, you know exactly what mess I had just gotten into. My stupid, smelly dog had given me a welcome home present on my bed that was by no means necessary. I took off my shirt and got some stuff to clean the mess up with, and all I could hear in the back of my mind was the instructions my mom had left me with. It wasn't Muffy's fault. It was mine. I didn't follow my mom's instructions, and I was now paying the consequences.

That's the way it is with our relationship with God. God has given us some directions, some commands that He wants us to follow. If we follow His commands, our lives will be full of joy and satisfaction. But if we don't follow His commands, life will become confusing and messed up. All those things God commands us to do and not to do are there for a purpose. They are there for our protection and well-being.

A lot of us treat God like I treated my mom's instructions. When she told me what I'd have to do for that dog, I thought to myself, "Sure, Mom, we'll see about that." Boy, did I ever see about that. We do the exact same thing to God. God says, "Don't get drunk," we say, "We'll see about that!" And then we suffer the consequences for going against God's commands. It's that way in everything we do. If we would just follow the instructions, then we would not only please God, but our lives would be a whole lot easier as well. Follow God's commands this week and don't make any excuses, and see if you don't live a more joyful and satisfying week.

Time Out:

1. Look up Jeremiah 29:11-13. What are God's plans for your life?

2. Why do you think God says no to stuff like drinking alcohol, sex before marriage, drugs, etc.?

3. Is there an instruction or command from the Lord that you have read in the Bible that you have been ignoring? Be careful before you end up in one big poopy mess.

4. Look up John 14:21. If you obey the Lord, you show Him what? If you don't obey the Lord, you show Him what?

5. The next time you think that God's commands are too tough or impossible, remember 1 John 2:4. Write the verse out in the space provided.