Right now as we speak, my dog Moses is standing on the end table in my living room. Underneath him are a series of architecture magazines and coffee table books. I’m hoping he doesn’t pee.I got Moses three weeks ago when a lady posted an ad on Facebook, advertising a litter of free lab puppies. I was particularly drawn to the hazel-eyed one, and I deduced that this was a good idea (“I want the little white ‘un. Yep. Male.).Once I picked him up, me and Moses were like peas and carrots. Actually, when I got him, his name wasn’t even Moses. I toyed around with the name “Hunter” but it wasn’t a good fit. That sounds stupid now. But “Moses” stuck like epoxy, once that burning-bush-harkening name rolled off my tongue.Taking care of Moses, there was going to be a tough learning curve for me, because heaven knows I’m no dog expert. Several of my friends kindly volunteered their advice, and I assured them I could handle him. They were still skeptical.Yep. I thought I’d teach him a few things: sit, potty, stay, fetch. But I never thought there were a few things he might teach me. In fact, in the midst of this relationship, Moses has taught me a lot about God.The first thing Moses taught me was about free will. If you didn’t already know this, puppies chew. Socks. Plugs. Underwear. Towels. Paper. Fingers. Bed sheets. Rocks. He’s building a collection of coat hangers in my living room. I think we’re up to four now.Out of all of the home misdemeanors (“Number Two-ing” in the floor would be considered a felony), this is Moses’s most frequent vice. But Moses doesn’t chew on everything because he’s a bad dog or because he wants to disobey me, he chews on everything because that’s his nature.Much has been said recently about our natural inclinations as human beings. “Well, that’s just the way I am!” “It’s my nature.” “I was born this way.”Deduce what you will from that, but we’re using this to justify everything under the sun. It’s like we’ve become so uncontrollable that we just can’t help ourselves. We’ve become like automatons, barbarians, slaves to our human nature. Sure, there are things we cannot help, but if we can help ourselves and we don’t, are we admitting we are that weak?See, the difference in Moses and us is that God has given us a great gift. He has given us the ability to choose. Moses acts on instinct. Moses acts on his nature. We don’t have to. We can choose otherwise. We can help ourselves. It may be dang hard, but it’s possible. And often, it’s worth it.The other morning, I got up really early to do some writing. It was around 4 a.m. and Moses crawled up on the couch with me. After some great, Dostoyevsky-like writing, I took a break. Then I looked up at Moses, who was now sitting up on the couch, waiting to be petted. I don’t know what it was—maybe it was the way the light hit his eye, but I realized that God took the time to make that eye. Amazing!Have you ever just sat and thought about that? Have you ever thought about the meticulous nature of our Creator? The precision? The detail?I mean. Seriously. The chances of a dog’s eye just coming together from some explosion are infinitesimal. It’s a number so high that it cannot be counted. No. God took the time to design that eye. He made something truly beautiful out of nothing. And not just Moses’s eye! He took the time to weave together all of Moses—hair, teeth, paws, tail, ears, whiskers, nose, elbow, ribs, claws, stomach!Every day, I talk to Moses. We don’t have conversations, per se, but he can tell when I’m upset with him and when I just want to show him love. Often, the most love I show Him occurs after I’ve disciplined him. I make sure to hug him more tightly a few minutes after I’ve given him a good scolding. You see, love is the universal language, and even Moses can tell when he’s receiving it. He doesn’t have to hear anything audibly. Similarly, just because we don’t hear or see God doesn’t mean He isn’t loving us every day. And just because He disciplines us doesn’t mean that He’s not smiling at us.I’ll admit, ol’ Mose has been a handful. All the inside doors in the house are closed right now. There’s no telling what he might snatch from the floor, a chair. I’ve had to discipline him many times, because I know what can hurt him. For instance, it’s not good to drink your own urine. Another time, Moses tried to leap from the couch to my recliner (I caught him in midair). He’s moved into a courageous stage, and he’s become sort of a daredevil. He’ll jump off the couch and land awkwardly and barrel roll across the floor—and I’m like—dang dude!—how did you not just break every bone in your body? I tell him he’s crazy, that he’s like Evil Knievel.You know, I just don’t want him to get hurt. I know that if he licks the light socket or chews on my computer cord things might not turn out swell. And I’d hate for that to happen. I know that if I don’t use the leash when I’m walking him to the office that he might run out in the road and get killed. He doesn’t know that yet, because he’s just a puppy.I think we’re all like that in ways. We’re all puppies when it comes to God. See, God doesn’t make mistakes, and God knows what’s best for us. Even when we don’t understand why things are happening. Our understanding of our surroundings and circumstances, when compared to God, is like Moses’ understanding when compared to me. Now, even though I am Moses’s daddy and master, I am in no way trying to compare myself to God. In fact, I’m trying to stress the converse of that thought. Many times, I think I know best. I often react to situations without consulting God. I do things without going to Him first.I should say:“God, what would please you?” “Father, what would honor you?” “Lord, is this what you want me to do?”And I wonder why, when I don’t, I get a bad result.Sometimes, God allows hurtful and uncomfortable things to happen to us because He wants to teach us something. Other times, He has to use a leash on us when we try to get ahead of Him, when we start to run wild, like Moses might in a field or pasture. The Lord has to pull us back a bit, get us back on His page.Fences, leashes, crates, discipline. It’s good for us to have parameters, standards. That’s why He gave us his Word, so we’d have a fence to protect us from the evil in this world.I’m sure that Moses isn’t done teaching me. Neither is God.He and I both have a long way to go. 78Photos by Blakeney Cox