My puppy watches the treat with rapt brown eyes and sits. Then he shifts a quick glance my direction. “Yes,” I say before rewarding him with the treat.
This past week, I joined a beginner’s dog obedience class with my puppy, Hobbes. One of the first commands we worked on was, “Look!” And I’m beginning to realize the magic of this simple command.
When I’m out for a walk with my pup and something catches his attention, I can instruct him to look at me instead. This slows down his momentum and hyper-focus on what’s distracting him. Sometimes it doesn’t work and Hobbes ignores my command, deciding to forgo a treat to pursue what he wants in that moment. But when he obeys, he redirects his focus where it should be—walking with me—rather than chasing after a distraction.
I’m learning in these early training days that merely getting him to comply isn’t enough in the heat of a distraction. Hobbes can quickly launch back into distraction mode. I’ve discovered when I need to redirect his focus and he obeys, if I kneel down and pet him—so that Hobbes has to linger in the moment—the lure of said distraction fades.
And oh how this lesson rings true in my own life. Jesus beckons me to Himself and often I respond like my puppy. I either go through the motions so I can launch immediately back to what I was doing or ignore the invitation altogether.
But when I truly accept Christ’s call to gaze upon Him and linger there, the pull of that distraction decreases and I’m better positioned to connect with my Savior. Whether my mind is buzzing with all I have to get done today, concern for my child, or discerning my next step, Jesus is beckoning.
“Dear one, look!” He whispers.
Jesus wants us to fix our eyes on Him, not our mounting obstacles or to-do list. When we do so, our perspectives are realigned with how we should respond—trust in our King, rather than frantic chasing. Focusing on Jesus first keeps us in step with Him and relying upon His strength, not our own.
When my mind swirls with the responsibilities that life brings my way, I too must be trained to look at my Savior.
According to the dog trainer, over time Hobbes won’t need a small treat or even a hand gesture with the command. With enough consistency, he’ll respond to my simple command, “Hobbes, look!”
And like the dog trainer’s smooth collie who sits at her feet waiting for his master’s direction, one day Hobbes may not need the command anymore because he’ll cultivate focus for what I want him to do.
Oh how I long for the day I don’t even need a quiet invitation from Jesus! I long to be the woman who by God’s grace has trained herself daily to look upon Him and wait for his instructions, rather than being pulled along by the pressures and noisiness each day brings.
May we train our hearts to turn to Jesus and wait in earnest expectation—one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time.
Looking to Jesus, the
founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him
endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the
throne of God. (Hebrews 12:2)
I lift my eyes to the
hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made
heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1,2)