Jamin Bradley

Many years ago, I was tubing down the Little Muskegon River to the family cabin when I encountered a friendly dog at one of the dams. This scruffy guy reminded me of my childhood pet, as he cheerfully followed me down the stream for half an hour.

I was smitten with him.

Noticing that the poor guy didn’t have a collar and was quite hungry, I gathered he didn’t belong to anyone. I had wanted a dog for a while, so I decided that if he stuck around for the rest of the day, I would make him my new pet. (I also decided to inform my wife of this decision while I was on the way home with him already in the car, which somehow worked better than I expected.) Excited about my new dog, I sent a picture to my brother.

“Jamin, did you find that dog by the dam?”

“Uh… yes?” I replied.

“He lives at a house right there,” he explained.

Having realized that I had just kidnapped someone’s pet and driven him two hours away to my house, I began to contemplate how to get the dam dog home. I woke up very early the next morning, before church, and drove him back to the scene of the crime. He was quite happy with me and had no interest in leaving my car, so I had to Shiloh/Airbud him away as I tried to pry him out. (To my dismay, he never Homeward Bounded me in return.) I then returned home in time to lead church, as I sang my way through an exhausted and teary rendition of How He Loves.

Just as I had compassion for a dam dog without a master (or so I thought) and wanted to take care of him, so does Jesus take compassion on us because we are “like sheep without a shepherd.” Just as it was the dog’s scruffiness that pulled me to him, so is it our scruffiness that pulls Jesus to us. It is our helplessness that gets his attention. He loves to care for the harassed.

Allow Christ to be your master. (Lest he kidnap you).